THE  WOMEN 


OF  THE 


AMERICAN  REVOLUTION. 

13  Y 

ELIZABETH    P.    ELLET, 

i  \ 

AUTHOR    OF    "THE    CHARACTERS    OE    SCHILLER,"    "COUNTRY    RAMBLES,"    ETO. 

IN    TWO    VOLUMES. 

VOL,   I, 


NEW   YORK: 
BAKER    AND    SCRIBNER, 

36    PARK    ROW    AND    145    NASSAU    STREET 

1818. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1848,  by 

BAKER  AND   SCRIBNER, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 


C.   W.  BENEDICT, 

Stereotyper  and  Printer, 

11  Spruce  street. 


TO 


SARAH  MAXWELL  LUMMI£, 

THE  DAUGHTER  OF  A  REVOLUTIONARY  OFFICER, 


THIS    WORK 


IS    RESPECTFULLY    AND     AFFECTIONATELY    INSCRIBED 


M27GS61 


LIST    OF    PLAT  ES 

I.  MERCY  WARREN. 

II.  ESTHER  REED. 

III.  MARY  PHILIPSE. 

IV.  SARAH  BACHE. 
V.  MARTHA   WILSON. 

VI.  REBECCA  MOTTE. 

VII.  CORNELIA  BEEKMAN. 


CONTENTS    OF    VOL.    I 


INTRODUCTORY, 

PAOE. 

13 

I. 

MARY  WASHINGTON, 

.       24 

II. 

ESTHER  REED, 

.       36 

III. 

CATHARINE  SCHUYLER, 

.       57 

IV. 

CATHARINE  GREENE, 

62 

V. 

MERCY  WARREN,      . 

.        74 

JENET  MONTGOMERY, 

90 

HANNAH  WINTHROP, 

.       92 

CATHARINE  LIVINGSTON,  . 

.     102 

VI. 

LUCIA  KNOX,   .... 

.     107 

MRS.  GATES,    .... 

.     Ill 

VII. 

MARY  DRAPER, 

.     113 

MRS.  POND,       .... 

.         .117 

VIII. 

FREDERICA  DE  RIEDESEL, 

.     119 

IX. 

DOROTHY  HANCOCK, 

.     143 

SARAH  HULL,   .... 

.     145 

X. 

HARRIET  ACKLAND, 

.     147 

XL 

HANNAH  ERWIN  ISRAEL,  . 

.     155 

MARY  REDMOND, 

.     169 

XII. 

LYDIA  DARRAH, 

.     171 

XIII. 

REBECCA  FRANKS,    . 

.     178 

XIV. 

ELIZABETH  FERGUSON, 

.     189 

Vlll 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE. 

XV.  -  MARY  PHILIPSE, 202 

XVI.     SARAH  REEVE  GIBBES,            .         .         .  208 

MARY  ANNA  GIBBES,      ....  217 

XVII.     ELIZA  WILKINSON,         .         .         .         .222 

XVIII.     MARTHA  BRATTON,         .         .         .         .237 

MRS.  ADAIR,           .....  245 

XIX.     JANE  THOMAS, 250 

ISABELLA  SIMS,     .....  260 

MRS.  JOLLY, 260 

MRS.  OTTERSON,              ....  261 

NANCY  JACKSON,            .         .         .     '    .  262 

JANE  McJuNKiN,            ....  262 

XX.     DORCAS  RICHARDSON,     ....  263 

XXI.     ELIZABETH,  GRACE,  AND  RACHEL  MARTIN,  274 

MRS.  SPALDING,               ....  280 

XXII.     DICEY  LANGSTON,           ....  284 

MRS.  DILLARD,                 ....  291 

MRS.  POTTER,        .....  294 

MRS.  BECKHAM,      .....  294 

XXIII.  ELIZABETH  STEELE,        ....  297 
MRS.  BREVARD,       .....  300 
MRS.  JACKSON, 303 

XXIV.  MARY  SLOCUMB, 304 

ESTHER  WAKE, 331 

XXV.     SARAH  BACHE,       .         .  332 


PREFACE. 


IN  offering  this  work  to  the  public,  it  is  due  to  the  reader 
no  less  than  the  writer,  to  say  something  of  the  extreme  diffi 
culty  which  has  been  found  in  obtaining  materials  sufficiently 
reliable  for  a  record  designed  to  be  strictly  authentic. 
Three  quarters  of  a  century  have  necessarily  effaced  all 
recollection  of  many  imposing  domestic  scenes  of  the  Revo 
lution,  and  cast,  over  many  a  veil  of  obscurity  through  which 
it  is  hard  to  distinguish  their  features.  Whatever  has  not 
been  preserved  by  contemporaneous  written  testimony,  or 
derived  at  an  early  period  from  immediate  actors  in  the 
scenes,  is  liable  to  the  suspicion  of  being  distorted  or  dis 
colored  by  the  imperfect  knowledge,  the  prejudices,  or  the 
fancy  of  its  narrators.  It  is  necessary  always  to  distrust, 
and  very  often  to  reject  traditionary  information.  Much  of 
this  character  has  been  received  from  various  sources,  but  I 
have  refrained  from  using  it  in  all  cases  where  it  was  not 
supported  by  responsible  personal  testimony,  or  where  it 
was  found  to  conflict  in  any  of  its  details  with  established 
historical  facts. 

Inasmuch  as  political  history  says  but  little — and  that 
vaguely  and  incidentally — of  the  Women  who  bore  their  part 


X  PREFACE. 

in  the  Revolution,  the  materials  for  a  work  treating  of  them  and 
their  actions  and  sufferings,  must  be  derived  in  great  part  from 
private  sources.  The  apparent  dearth  of  information  was  at 
first  almost  disheartening.  Except  the  Letters  of  Mrs.  Adams, 
no  fair  exponent  of  the  feelings  and  trials  of  the  women  of 
the  Revolution  had  been  given  to  the  public  ;  for  the  Letters 
of  Mrs.  Wilkinson  afford  but  a  limited  view  of  a  short  period 
of  the  war.  Of  the  Southern  women,  Mrs.  Motte  was  the 
only  one  generally  remembered  in  her  own  State  for  the  act 
of  magnanimity  recorded  in  history  ;  and  a  few  fragmentary 
anecdotes  of  female  heroism,  to  be  found  in  Garden's  collec 
tion,  and  some  historical  works — completed  the  amount  of 
published  information  on  the  subject.  Letters  of  friendship 
and  affection — those  most  faithful  transcripts  of  the  heart 
and  mind  of  individuals,  have  been  earnestly  sought,  and 
examined  wherever  they  could  be  obtained.  But  letter- 
writing  was  far  less  usual  among  our  ancestors  than  it  is  at 
the  present  day ;  and  the  uncertainty,  and  sometimes  the 
danger  attendant  upon  the  transmission  of  letters  were  not 
only  an  impediment  to  frequent  correspondence,  but  excluded 
from  that  which  did  exist,  much  discussion  of  the  all-absorb 
ing  subjects  of  the  time.  Of  the  little  that  was  written,  too, 
how  small  a  portion  remains  in  this — as  it  has  been  truly 
called — manuscript-destroying  generation  !  But  while  much 
that  might  have  illustrated  the  influence  of  woman  and  the 
domestic  character  and  feeling  of  those  days,  had  been  lost 
or  obscured  by  time,  it  appeared  yet  possible,  by  persevering 
effort,  to  recover  something  worthy  of  an  enduring  record. 
With  the  view  of  eliciting  information  for  this  purpose,  appli 
cation  was  made  severally  to  the  surviving  relatives  of  women 
remarkable  for  position  or  influence,  or  whose  zeal,  personal 


PREFACE.  XI 

sacrifices,  or  heroic  acts,  had  contributed  to  promote  the  estab 
lishment  of  American  Independence. 

"My  success  in  these  applications  has  not  been  such  as  to 
enable  me  to  fill  out  entirely  my  own  idea  of  the  work  I 
wished  to  present  to  the  reader.  Some  of  the  sketches  are 
necessarily  brief  an  meagre,  and  perhaps  few  of  them  do 
full  justice  to  their  subjects.  There  is,  also,  inherent  diffi 
culty  in  delineating  female  character,  whieh  impresses  itself 
on  the  memory  of  those  who  have  known  the  individual  by 
delicate  traits,  that  may  be  felt  but  not  described.  The 
actions  of  men  stand  out  in  prominent  relief,  and  are  a  safe 
guide  in  forming  a  judgment  of  them  ;  a  woman's  sphere,  on 
the  other  hand,  is  secluded,  and  in  very  few  instances  does 
her  personal  history,  even  though  she  may  fill  a  conspicuous 
position,  afford  sufficient  incident  to  throw  a  strong  light  upon 
her  character.  This  want  of  salient  points  for  description 
must  be  felt  by  all  who  have  attempted  a  faithful  portraiture 
of  some  beloved  female  relative.  How  much  is  the  difficulty 
increased  when  a  stranger  essays  a  tribute  to  those  who  are 
no  longer  among  the  living,  and  whose  existence  was  passed 
for  the  most  part  in  a  quiet  round  of  domestic  duties ! 

It  need  scarcely  be  said  that  the  deficiency  of  material  has 
in  no  case  been  supplied  by  fanciful  embellishment.  These 
memoirs  are  a  simple  and  homely  narrative  of  real  occur 
rences.  Wherever  details  were  Avanting  to  fill  out  the  picture, 
it  has  been  left  in  outline  for  some  more  fortunate  limner. 
No  labor  of  research,  no  pains  in  investigation — and  none  but 
those  who  have  been  similarly  engaged  can  estimate  the 
labor — have  been  spared  in  establishing  the  truth  of  the 
statements.  It  can  hardly  be  expected  that  inaccuracies  have 
been  altogether  avoided  in  a  work  where  the  facts  have  to 


Xll  PREFACE. 

be  drawn  from  numerous  and  sometimes  conflicting  authori 
ties  ;  but  errors,  if  discovered,  may  be  hereafter  corrected. 

The  sketches  contained  in  the  first  volume,  illustrating  pro 
gressive  stages  of  the  war,  are  arranged  with  some  obser 
vance  of  chronological  order ;  while  those  in  the  second  do 
not  admit  of  such  a  distribution. 

Many  authorities,  including  nearly  all  the  books  upon  the 
Revolution,  have  been  consulted,  and  reference  is  made  to 
those  to  which  I  am  under  special  obligations.  For  the 
memoir  of  Mrs.  Bache,  I  am  indebted  to  the  pen  of  Mr. 
William  Duane,  of  Philadelphia,  and  for  that  of  Mrs. 
Allen,  to  Mr.  Henry  R.  Schoolcraft,  of  Washington.  My 
grateful  acknowledgments  are  due  also  to  Mr;  Jacob  B. 
Moore,  Librarian  of  the  New  York  Historical  Society,  for 
valuable  advice,  imd  for  facilities  afforded  me  in  examining 
the  books  and  manuscripts  under  his  charge  ;  and  to  Dr. 
Joseph  Johnson,  the  Rev.  James  H.  Saye,  and  the  Hon. 
Judge  O'Neall,  of  South  Carolina,  who  have  obligingly  aided 
me  in  the  collection  of  authentic  particulars  connected  with 
the  war  in  that  State.  Others  have  rendered  valuable  assist 
ance  in  the  same  way,  and  in  affording  me  an  opportunity  of 
examining  family  papers  in  their  possession.  T«rthem  all — 
and  to  those  numerous  friends  who  have  encouraged  me  by 
their  sympathy  and  kind  wishes  in  this  arduous  but  inter 
esting  task — I  offer  most  heartfelt  thanks.  If  the  work  whose 
progress  they  have  cherished  should  be  deemed  a  useful  con 
tribution  to  American  History,  they  will  be  no  less  gratified 
than  myself  that  its  design  has  been  accomplished. 

E.  F.  E. 


THE  WOMEN  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 


ALL  Americans  are  accustomed  to  view  with  inte 
rest  and  admiration  the  events  of  the  Revolution.  Its 
scenes  are  vivid  in  their  memory,  and  its  prominent 
actors  are  regarded  with  the  deepest  veneration.  But 
while  the  leading  spirits  are  thus  honored,  attention 
should  be  directed  to  the  source  whence  their  power 
was  derived — to  the  sentiment  pervading  the  mass  of 
the  people.  The  force  of  this  sentiment,  working  in 
the  public  heart,  cannot  be  measured  ;  because,  amidst 
the  abundance  of  materials  for  the  history  of  action, 
there  is  little  for  that  of  the  feeling  of  those  times.  And, 
as  years  pass  on,  the  investigation  becomes  more  and 
more  difficult.  Yet  it  is  both  interesting  #nd  important 
to  trace  its  operation.  It  gave  statesmen  their  influence, 
and  armed  heroes  for  victory.  What  could  they  have 
done  but  for.  the  home-sentiment  to  which  they  appealed, 
and  which  sustained  them  in  the  hour  of  trial  and 
success  ?  They  were  thus  aided  to  the  eminence  they 
gained  through  toils  and  perils.  Others  may  claim  a 
share  in  the  merit,  if  not  the  fame,  of  their  illustrious 


14  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

deeds.  The  unfading  laurels  that  wreathe  their  brows 
had  their  root  in  the  hearts  of  the  people,  and  were 
nourished  with  their  life-blood. 

The  feeling  which  wrought  thus  powerfully  in  the 
community  depended,  in  great  part,  upon  the  women. 
It  is  always  thus  in  times  of  popular  excitement.  Who 
can  estimate,  moreover,  the  controlling  influence  of 
early  culture!  During  the  years  of  the  progress  of 
British  encroachment  and  colonial  discontent,  when 
the  sagacious  politician  could  discern  the  portentous 
shadow  of  events  yet  far  distant,  there  was  time  for 
the  nurture,  in  the  domestic  sanctuary,  of  that  love  of 
civil  liberty,  which  afterwards  kindled  into  a  flame, 
and  shed  light  on  the  world.  The  talk  of  matrons,  in 
American  homes,  was  of  the  people's  wrongs,  and  the 
tyranny  that  oppressed  them,  till  the  sons  who  had 
grown  to  manhood,  with  strengthened  aspirations  to 
wards  a  better  state  of  things,  and  views  enlarged  to 
comprehend  their  invaded  rights,  stood  up  prepared  to 
defend  them  to  the  utmost.  Patriotic  mothers  nursed 
the  infancy  of  freedom.  Their  counsels  and  their 
prayers  mingled  with  the  deliberations  that  resulted  in 
a  nation's  assertion  of  its  independence.  They  ani 
mated  the  courage,  and  confirmed  the  self-devotion  of 
those  who  ventured  all  in  the  common  cause.  They 
frowned  upon  instances  of  coldness  or  backwardness; 
and  in  the  period  of  deepest  gloom,  cheered  and  urged 
onward  the  desponding.  They  willingly  shared  inevit 
able  dangers  and  privations,  relinquished  without  regret 
prospects  of  advantage  to  themselves,  and  parted  with 


WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  '     15 

those  they  loved  better  than  life,  not  knowing  when 
they  were  to  meet  again.  It  is  almost  impossible  now 
to  appreciate  the  vast  influence  of  woman's  patriotism 
upon  the  destinies  of  the  infant  republic.  We  have 
no  means  of  showing  the  important  part  she  bore  in 
maintaining  the  struggle,  and  in  laying  the  foundations 
on  which  so  mighty  and  majestic  a  structure  has  arisen. 
History  can  do  it  no  justice  ;  for  history  deals  with  the 
workings  of  the  head,  rather  than  the  heart.  And 
the  knowledge  received  by  tradition,  of  the  domestic 
manners,  and  social  character  of  the  times,  is  too  im 
perfect  to  furnish  a  sure  index.  We  can  only  dwell 
upon  individual  instances  of  magnanimity,  fortitude, 
self-sacrifice,  and  heroism,  bearing  the  impress  of  the 
feeling  of  Revolutionary  days,  indicative  of  the  spirit 
which  animated  all,  and  to  which,  in  its  various  and 
multiform  exhibitions,  we  are  not  less  indebted  for  na 
tional  freedom,  than  to  the  swords  of  the  patriots  who 
poured  out  their  blood. 

"  'Tis  true.  Oleander,"  says  a  writer  in  one  of  the 
papers  of  the  day,*  "  no  mean  merit  will  accrue  to  him 
who  shall  justly  celebrate  the  virtues  of  our  ladies! 
Shall  not  their  generous  contributions  to  relieve  the 
wants  of  the  defenders  of  our  country,  supply  a  column 
to  emulate  the  Roman  women,  stripped  of  their  jewels 
when  the  public  necessity  demanded  them?"  Such 
tributes  were  often  called  forth  by  the  voluntary  exer 
tions  of  American  women.  Their  patriotic  sacrifices 
were  made  with  an  enthusiasm  that  showed  the  earnest 

*  New  Jersey  Gazette,  October  llth,  1780. 


16  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

spirit  ready  on  every  occasion  to  appear  in  generous 
acts.  Some  gave  their  own  property,  and  went  from 
house  to  house  to  solicit  contributions  for  the  army. 
Colors  were  embroidered  by  fair  hands,  and  presented 
with  the  charge  never  to  desert  them ;  and  arms  and 
ammunition  were  provided  by  the  same  liberal  zeal. 
They  formed  themselves  into  associations  renouncing 
the  use  of  teas,  and  other  imported  luxuries,  and  engag 
ing  to  card,  spin,  and  weave  their  own  clothing.  In 
Mecklenburgh  and  Rowan  counties,  North  Carolina, 
young  ladies  of  the  most  respectable  families  pledged 
themselves  not  to  receive  the  addresses  of  any  suitors 
who  had  not  obeyed  the  country's  call  for  military 
service. 

The  needy  shared  the  fruit  of  their  industry  and 
economy.  They  visited  hospitals  daily ;  sought  the 
dungeons  of  the  provost,  and  the  crowded  holds  of 
prison  ships  ;  and  provisions  were  carried  from  their 
stores  to  the  captives  whose  only  means  of  recom 
pense  was  the  blessing  of  those  who  were  ready  to 
perish.  Many  raised  grain,  gathered  it,  made  bread, 
and  carried  it  to  their  relatives  in  the  army,  or  in  pri 
sons,  accompanying  the  supply  with  exhortations  never 
to  abandon  the  cause  of  their  country.  The  burial  of 
friends  slain  in  battle,  or  chance-encounters,  often  de 
volved  upon  them ;  and  even  enemies  would  not  have 
received  sepulture  without  the  service  of  their  hands. 

When  the  resources  of  the  country  scarcely  allowed 
the  scantiest  supply  of  clothing  and  provisions,  and 
British  cruisers  on  the  coast  destroyed  every  hope  of 


WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  17 

aid  from  merchant  vessels ;  when,  to  the  distressed 
troops,  their  cup  of  misfortune  seemed  full  to  overflow 
ing,  and  there  appeared  no  prospect  of  relief,  except 
from  the  benevolence  of  their  fellow-citizens ;  when 
even  the  ability  of  these  was  almost  exhausted  by 
repeated  applications — then  it  was  that  the  women  of 
Pennsylvania  and  New  Jersey,  by  their  zealous  exer 
tions  and  willing  sacrifices,  accomplished  what  had  been 
thought  impossible.  Not  only  was  the  pressure  of  want 
removed,  but  the  sympathy  and  favor  of  the  fair  daugh 
ters  of  America,  says  one  of  the  journals,  "  operated  like 
a  charm  on  the  soldier's  heart — gave  vigor  to  exer 
tion,  confidence  to  his  hopes  of  success,  and  the  ultimate 
certainty  of  victory  and  peace."  General  Washington, 
in  his  letter  of  acknowledgment  to  the  committee  of 
ladies,  says,  "'  The  army  ought  not  to  regret  its  sacri 
fices  or  its  sufferings,  when  they  meet  with  so  flattering 
a  reward,  as  in  the  sympathy  of  your  sex ;  nor  can  it 
fear  that  its  interests  will  be  neglected,  when  espoused 
by  advocates  as  powerful  as  they  are  amiable."  An 
officer  in  camp  writes,  in  June,  1780:  "The  patriotism 
of  the  women  of  your  city  is  a  subject  of  conversation 
with  the  army.  Had  I  poetical  genius,  I  would  sit 
down  and  write  an  ode  in  praise  of  it.  Burgoyne, 
who,  on  his  first  coming  to  America,  boasted  that  he 
would  dance  with  the  ladies,  and  coax  the  men  to  sub 
mission,  must  now  have  a  better  understanding  of  the 
good  sense  and  public  spirit  of  our  females,  as  he  has 
already  heard  of  the  fortitude  and  inflexible  temper  of 
our  men."  Another  observes :  "  We  cannot  appeal  in 


18  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

vain  for  what  is  good,  to  that  sanctuary  where  all  that 
is  good  has  its  proper  home — the  female  bosom." 

How  the  influence  of  women  was  estimated  by  John 
Adams,  appears  from  one  of  his  letters  to  his  wife : 

"  I  think  I  have  some  times  observed  to  you  in  conversa 
tion,  that  upon  examining  the  biography  of  illustrious  men, 
you  will  generally  find  some  female  about  them,  in  the 
relation  of  mother,  or  wife,  or  sister,  to  whose  instigation 
a  great  part  of  their  merit  is  to  be  ascribed.  You  will 
find  a  curious  example  of  this  in  the  case  of  Aspasia, 
the  wife  of  Pericles.  She  was  a  woman  of  the  greatest 
beauty,  and  the  first  genius.  She  taught  him,  it  is  said, 
his  refined  maxims  of  policy,  his  lofty  imperial  eloquence, 
nay,  even  composed  the  speeches  on  which  so  great  a 
share  of  his  reputation  was  founded. 

"  I  wish  some  of  our  great  men  had  such  wives.     By 
the  account  in  your  last  letter,  it  seems  the  women  in 
Boston  begin  to  think  themselves  able  to  serve  their 
country.     What  a  pity  it  is  that  our  generals  in  thet 
northern  districts  had  not  Aspasias  to  their  wives. 

"I  believe  the  two  Howes  have  not  very  great 
women  for  wives.  If  they  had,  we  should  suffer  more 
from  their  exertions  than  we  do.  This  is  our  good  for 
tune.  A  smart  wife  would  have  put  Howe  in  possession 
of  Philadelphia  a  long  time  ago." 

The  venerable  Major  Spalding,  of  Georgia,  writes,  in 
reply  to  an  application  to  him  for  information  respecting 
the  revolutionary  women  of  his  state  :  "  I  am  a  very  old 
man,  and  have  read  as  much  as  any  one  I  know,  yet  I  have 
never  known,  and  never  read  of  one — no,  not  one !— 


WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  19 

who  did  not  owe  high  standing,  or  a  great  name,  to  his 
mother's  blood,  or  his  mother's  training.  My  friend 
Randolph  said  he  owed  every  thing  to  his  mother.  Mr. 
Jefferson's  mother  was  a  Randolph,  and  he  acknow 
ledged  that  he  owed  every  thing  to  her  rearing.  Gene 
ral  Washington,  we  all  know,  attributed  every  thing  to 
his  mother.  Lord  Bapon  attributed  much  to  his  mo 
ther's  training.  And  will  any  one  doubt  that  even 
Alexander  believed  he  owed  more  to  the  blood  and 
lofty  ambition  of  Olympia,  than  the  wisdom  or  cunning 
of  Philip?" 

The  sentiments  of  the  women  towards  the  brave 
defenders  of  their  native  land,  were  expressed  in  an 
address  widely  circulated  at  the  time,  and  read  in  the 
churches  of  Virginia.  "  We  know,'5  it  says — "  that  at 
a  distance  from  the  theatre  of  war,  if  we  enjoy  any 
tranquillity,  it  is  the  fruit  of  your  watchings,  your  labors, 
your  dangers.  *  *  *  *  And  shall  we  hesitate  to 
evince  to  you  our  gratitude  ?  Shall  we  hesitate  to  wear 
clothing  more  simple,  and  dress  less  elegant,  while  at 
the  price  of  this  small  privation,  we  shall  deserve  your 
benedictions  ?" 

The  same  spirit  appears  in  a  letter  found  among  some 
papers  belonging  to  a  lady  of  Philadelphia.  It  was 
addressed  to  a  British  officer  in  Boston,  and  written 
before  the  Declaration  of  Independence.  The  follow 
ing  extract  will  show  its  character  : 

"  I  will  tell  you  what  I  have  done.  My  only  brother 
I  have  sent  to  the  camp  with  my  prayers  and  blessings. 
I  hope  he  will  not  disgrace  me;  I  am  confident  he  will 


20  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

behave  with  honor,  and  emulate  the  great  examples  he 
has  before  him;  and  had  I  twenty  sons  and  brothers 
they  should  go.  I  have  retrenched  every  superfluous 
expense  in  my  table  and  family ;  tea  I  have  not  drunk 
since  last  Christmas,  nor  bought  a  new  cap  or  gown 
since  your  defeat  at  Lexington  ;  and  what  I  never  did 
before,  have  learned  to  knit,  and  am  now  making  stock 
ings  of  American  wool  for  my  servants ;  and  this  way 
do  I  throw  in  my  mite  to  the  public  good.  I  know 
this — that  as  free  I  can  die  but  once ;  but  as  a  slave  I 
shall  not  be  worthy  of  life.  I  have  the  pleasure  to 
assure  you  that  these  are  the  sentiments  of  all  my  sister 
Americans.  They  have  sacrificed  assemblies,  parties  of 
pleasure,  tea  drinking  and  finery,  to  that  great  spirit  of 
patriotism  that  actuates  all  degrees  of  people  through 
out  this  extensive  continent.  If  these  are  the  senti 
ments  of  females,  what  must  glow  in  the  breasts  of 
our  husbands,  brothers,  and  sons !  They  are  as  with 
one  heart  determined  to  die  or  be  free.  It  is  not  a 
quibble  in  politics,  a  science  which  few  understand,  that 
we  are  contending  for ;  it  is  this  plain  truth,  which  the 
most  ignorant  peasant  knows,  and  is  clear  to  the 
weakest  capacity — that  no  man  has  a  right  to  take  their 
money  without  their  consent.  You  say  you  are  no 
politician.  Oh,  sir,  it  requires  no  Machiavelian  head 
to  discover  this  tyranny  and  oppression.  It  is  written 
with  a  sunbeam.  Every  one  will  see  and  know  it, 
because  it  will  make  every  one  feel ;  and  we  shall  be 
unworthy  of  the  blessings  of  Heaven  if  we  ever  submit 
to  it.  *  *  *  *  *  * 


WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  21 

*  *  *  "  Heaven  seems  to  smile  on  us  ;  for  in 
the  memory  of  man,  never  were  known  such  quantities 
of  flax,  and  sheep  without  number.  We  are  making 
powder  fast,  and  do  not  want  for  ammunition." 

From  all  portions  of  the  country  thus  rose  the  expres 
sion  of  woman's  ardent  zeal.  Under  accumulated  evils, 
the  manly  spirit  that  alone  could  secure  success,  might 
have  sunk  but  for  the  firmness  arid  intrepidity  of  the 
weaker  sex.  It  supplied  every  persuasion  that  could 
animate  to  perseverance,  and  secure  fidelity. 

The  noble  deeds  in  which  this  irrepressible  spirit 
breathed  itself,  were  not  unrewarded  by  persecution. 
The  case  of  the  quakeress  Deborah  Franklin,  who  was 
banished  from  New  York  by  the  British  commandant 
for  her  liberality  in  relieving  the  sufferings  of  the  Ameri 
can  prisoners,was  one  among  many.  In  our  days  of  tran 
quillity  and  luxury,  imagination  can  scarcely  compass  the 
extent  or  severity  of  the  trials  endured  ;  and  it  is  propor 
tionately  difficult  to  estimate  the  magnanimity  that  bore 
all,  not  only  with  uncomplaining  patience,  but  with  a 
cheerful  forgetfulness  of  suffering  in  view  of  the  desired 
object.  The  alarms  of  war — the  roar  of  the  strife  itself, 
could  not  silence  the  voice  of  woman,  lifted  in  encourage 
ment  or  in  prayer.  The  horrors  of  battle  or  massacre 
could  not  drive  her  from  the  post  of  duty.  The 
effect  of  this  devotion  cannot  be  questioned,  though 
it  may  not  no\v  be  traced  in  particular  instances. 
These  were,  for  the  most  part,  known  only  to  those 
who  were  themselves  actors  in  the  scenes,  or  who 
lived  in  the  midst  of  them.  The  heroism  of  the  Revo- 


22  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

lutionary  women  has  passed  from  remembrance  with 
the  generation  who  witnessed  it ;  or  is  seen  only  by 
faint  and  occasional  glimpses,  through  the  gathering 
obscurity  of  tradition. 

To  render  a  measure  of  justice — inadequate  it  must 
be — to  a  few  of  the  American  matrons,  whose  names 
deserve  to  live  in  remembrance — and  to  exhibit  some 
thing  of  the  domestic  side  of  the  Revolutionary  picture 
— is  the  object  of  this  work.  As  we  recede  from  the 
realities  of  that  struggle,  it  is  regarded  with  increasing 
interest  by  those  who  enjoy  its  results;  while  the 
elements  which  were  its  life-giving  principle,  too  subtle 
to  be  retained  by  the  grave  historian,  are  fleeting 
fast  from  apprehension.  Yet  without  some  conception 
of  them,  the  Revolution  cannot  be  appreciated.  We 
must  enter  into  the  spirit,  as  well  as  master  the  letter. 

While  attempting  to  pay  a  tribute  but  too  long  with 
held,  to  the  memory  of  women  who  did  and  endured  so 
much  in  the  cause  of  liberty,  we  should  not  be  insensi 
ble  to  the  virtues  exhibited  by  another  class,  belonging 
equally  to  the  history  of  the  period.  These  had  their 
share  of  reverse  and  suffering.  Many  saw  their  chil 
dren  and  relatives  espousing  opposite  sides ;  and  with 
ardent  feelings  of  loyalty  in  their  hearts,  were  forced  to 
weep  over  the  miseries  of  their  families  and  neighbors. 
Many  were  driven  from  their  homes,  despoiled  of 
property,  and  finally  compelled  to  cast  their  lot  in  deso 
late  wilds  and  an  ungenial  climate.*  And  while  their 

*  The  ancient  Acadia,  comprising  Nova  Scotia  and  New  Brunswick, 
was  settled  by  many  of  the  refugee  loyalists  from  the  United  States. 


WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  23 

heroism,  fortitude,  and  spirit  of  self-sacrifice  were  not 
less  brightly  displayed,  their  hard  tot  was  unpitied,  and 
they  met  with  no  reward. 

In  the  library  of  William  H.  Prescott,  at  his  residence 
in  Boston,  are  two  swords,  crossed  above  the  arch  of 
an  alcove.  One  belonged  to  his  grandfather,  Colonel 
William  Prescott,  who  commanded  the  American 
troops  in  the  redoubt  at  Bunkerhill.  The  other  was 
the  sword  of  Captain  Linzee,  of  the  royal  navy,  who 
commanded  the  British  sloop  of  war — The  Falcon, 
then  lying  in  the  Mystic ;  from  which  the  American 
troops  were  fired  upon  as  they  crossed  to  Bunkerhill. 
Captain  Linzee  was  the  grandfather  of  Mrs.  Prescott. 
The  swords  of  those  two  gallant  soldiers  who  fought  on 
different  sides  upon  that  memorable  day — now  in  the 
possession  of  their  united  descendants,  and  crossed^an 
emblem  of  peace,  in  the  library  of  the  great  American 
historian — are  emblematic  of  the  spirit  in  which  our 
history  should  be  written.  Such  be  the  spirit  in  which 
we  view  the  loyalists  of  those  days. 


MARY   WASHINGTON. 

THE  MOTHER  OF  WASHINGTON!  There  needs  no 
eulogy  to  awaken  the  associations  which  cling  around 
that  sacred  name.  Our  hearts  do  willing  homage  to 
the  venerated  parent  of  the  chief — 

"  Who  'mid  his  elements  of  being  wrought 
With  no  uncertain  aim — nursing  the  germs 
Of  godlike  virtue  in  his  infant  mind." 

The  contemplation  of  Washington's  character  natural 
ly  directs  attention  to  her  whose  maternal  care  guided 
and  guarded  his  early  years.  What  she  did,  and  the 
blessing  of  a  world  that  follows  her — teach  impressively 
— while  showing  the  power — the  duty  of  those  who 
mould  the  characters  of  the  age  to  come.  The  princi 
ples  and  conduct  of  this  illustrious  matron  were  closely 
interwoven  with  the  destinies  of  her  son.  Washington 
ever  acknowledged  that  he  owed  everything  to  his 
mother — in  the  education  and  habits  of  his  early  life. 
His  high  moral  principle,  his  perfect  self-possession,  his 
clear  and  sound  judgment,  his  inflexible  resolution  and 
untiring  application — were  developed  by  her  training 


MARY    WASHINGTON.  25 

and  example.  A  believer  in  the  truths  of  religion,  she 
inculcated  a  strict  obedience  to  its  injunctions.  She 
planted  the  seed,  and  cherished' the  growth,  which  bore 
such  rich  and  glorious  fruit.  La  Fayette  observed  that 
she  belonged  rather  to  the  age  of  Sparta  or  Rome,  than 
to  modern  times;  she  was  a  mother  formed  on  the 
ancient  model,  and  by  her  elevation  of  character  and 
matchless  discipline,  fitted  to  lay  the  foundation  of  the 
greatness  of  him  who  towered  "beyond,  all  Greek — 
beyond  all  Roman  fame." 

The  course  of  Mrs.  Washington's  life,  exhibiting  her 
qualities  of  mind  and  heart,  proved  her  fitness  for  the 
high  trust  committed  to  her  hands.  She  was  remarka 
ble  for  vigor  of  intellect,  strength  of  resolution,  and 
inflexible  firmness  wherever  principle  was  concerned. 
Devoted  to  the  education  of  her  children,  her  parental 
government  and  guidance  have  been  described  by  those 
who  knew  her  as  admirably  adapted  to  train  the  youth 
ful  mind  to  wisdom  and  virtue.  With  her,  affection 
was  regulated  by  a  calm  and  just  judgment.  She  was 
distinguished,  moreover,  by  that  well  marked  quality  of 
genius,  a  power  of  acquiring  and  maintaining  influence 
over  those  with  whom  she  associated.  Without  inqui 
ring  into  the  philosophy  of  this  mysterious  ascendancy, 
she  was  content  to  employ  it  for  the  noblest  ends.  It 
contributed,  no  doubt,  to -deepen  the  effect  of  her  instruc 
tions. 

The  life  of  Mrs.  Washington,  so  useful  in  the  domestic 
sphere,  did  not  abound  in  incident.  She  passed  through 
the  trials  common  to  those  who  lived  amid  the  scenes  of 


26  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

the  Revolutionary  era.  She  saw  the  son  whom  she  had 
taught  to  be  good — whom  she  had  reared  in  the  princi 
ples  of  true  honor,  walking  the  perilous  path  of  duty 
with  firm  step,  leading  his  country  to  independence,  and 
crowned  with  his  reward — a  nation's  gratitude;  yet  in 
all  these  changes,  her  simple,  earnest  nature  remained 
the  same.  She  loved  to  speak,  in  her  latter  days,  of 
her  boy's  merits  in  his  early  life,  and  of  his  filial  affec 
tion  and  duty ;  but  never  dwelt  on  the  glory  he  had 
won  as  the  deliverer  of  his  country,  the  chief  magis 
trate  of  a  great  republic.  This  was  because  her  ambi 
tion  was  too  high  for  the  pride  that  inspires  and  rewards 
common  souls.  The  greatness  she  discerned  and  ac 
knowledged  in  the  object  of  her  solicitous  tenderness 
was  beyond  that  which  this  world  most  esteems. 

The  only  memoir  of  the  mother  of  Washington  extant, 
is  the  one  written  by  George  W.  P.  Custis,  the  grandson 
of  Martha  Washington,  and  published  more  than  twenty 
years  ago  in  his  "  Recollections"  in  the  National  Gazette. 
These  reminiscences  were  collected  by  him  in  the 
course  of  many  years ;  and  to  them  we  are  indebted  for 
all  that  is  known  of  the  life  and  actions  of  this  matron. 
According  to  these,  she  was  descended  from  the  re 
spectable  family  of  Ball,  who  came  to  this  country  and 
settled  on  the  banks  of  the  Potomac.  J~"lrT  the  old  days 
of  Virginia,  women  were  taught  habits  of  industry  and 
self-reliance,  and  in  these  Mrs.  Washington  was 
nurtured.  The  early  death  of  her  husband  involved 
her  in  the  cares  of  a  young  family  with  limited  resources, 
which  rendered  prudence  and  economy  necessary  to 


MARY    WASHINGTON.  27 

provide  for  and  educate  her  children.  Thus  circum 
stanced,  it  was  left  to  her  unassisted  efforts  to  form  in 
her  son's  mind,  those  essential  qualities  which  gave  tone 
and  character  to  his  subsequent  life.  George  was  only 
twelve  years  old  at  his  father's  death,  and  retained 
merely  the  remembrance  of  his  person,  and  his  parental 
fondness.  Two  years  after  this  event,  he  obtained  a 
midshipman's  warrant ;  but  his  mother  opposed  the  plan, 
and  the  idea  of  entering  the  naval  service  wras  relin 
quished. 

The  home  in  which  Mrs.  Washington  presided,  was 
a  sanctuary  of  the  domestic  virtues.  The  levity  of 
youth  was  there  tempered  by  a  well  regulated  restraint, 
and  the  enjoyments  rational  and  proper  for  that  age 
were  indulged  in  with  moderation.  The  future  chief 
was  taught  the  duty  of  obedience,  and  was  thus  pre 
pared  to  command.  The  mother's  authority  never 
departed  from  her,  even  when  her  son  had  attained  the 
height  of  his  renown;  for  she  ruled  by  the  affection 
which  had  controlled  his  spirit  when  he  needed  a  guar 
dian  ;  and  she  claimed  a  reverence  next  to  that  due  to 
his  Creator.  This  claim  he  admitted,  mingling  the 
deepest  respect  with  enthusiastic  attachment,  and  yield 
ing  to  her  will  the  most  implicit  obedience,  even  to  the 
latest  hours  of  her  life.  One  of  the  associates  of  his 
juvenile  years,  Lawrence  Washington,  of  Chotank, 
thus  speaks  of  his  home : 

"  I  was  often  there  with  George,  his  playmate,  school 
mate,  and  young  man's  companion.  Of  the  mother  I 
was  ten  times  more  afraid  than  I  ever  was  of  my  own 


28  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

parents ;  she  awed  me  in  the  midst  of  her  kindness,  for 
she  was  indeed  truly  kind.  And  even  now,  when  time 
has  whitened  my  locks,  and  I  am  the  grandparent  of  a 
second  generation,  I  could  not  behold  that  majestic 
woman  without  feelings  it  is  impossible  to  describe. 
Whoever  has  seen  that  awe-inspiring  air  and  manner, 
so  characteristic  of  the  Father  of  his  country,  will  re 
member  the  matron  as  she  appeared,  the  presiding 
genius  of  her  well-ordered  household,  commanding  and 
being  obeyed."  Educated  under  such  influences,  it  is 
not  to  be  wondered  at  that  Washington's  deportment 
towards  his  mother  at  all  times,  testified  his  appreciation 
of  her  elevated  character,  and  the  excellence  of  her 
lessons. 

"  On  his  appointment  to  the  command-in-chief  of  the 
American  armies,"  says  Mr.  Custis,  "previously  to  his 
joining  the  forces  at  Cambridge,  he  removed  his  mother 
from  her  country  residence,  to  the  village  of  Fredericks- 
burg,  a  situation  remote  from  danger  and  contiguous  to 
her  friends  and  relatives.  There  she  remained,  during 
nearly  the  whole  of  the  trying  period  of  the  Revolution. 
Directly  in  the  way  of  the  newrs,  as  it  passed  from  north 
to  south ;  one  courier  would  bring  intelligence  of  success 
to  our  arms;  another,  "swiftly  coursing  at  his  heels," 
the  saddening  reverse  of  disaster  and  defeat.  While 
thus  ebbed  and  flowed  the  fortunes  of  our  cause,  the 
mother,  trusting  to  the  wisdom  and  protection  of 
Divine  Providence,  preserved  the  even  tenor  of  her  life ; 
affording  an  example  to  those  matrons  whose  sons  were 
alike  engaged  in  the  arduous  contest ;  and  showing  that 


MARY    WASHINGTON.  29 

unavailing  anxieties,  however  belonging  to  nature,  were 
unworthy  of  mothers  whose  sons  were  combating  for 
the  inestimable  rights  of  man,  and  the  freedom  and 
happiness  of  the  world." 

When  news  arrived  of  the  passage  of  the  Delaware 
in  December,  1776,  the  mother  received  calmly  the 
patriots  who  came  with  congratulations;  and  while 
expressing  pleasure  at  the  intelligence,  disclaimed  for 
her  son  the  praises  in  the  letters  from  which  extracts 
were  read.  When  informed  by  express  of  the  surrender 
of  Cornwallis,  she  lifted  her  hands  in  gratitude  towards 
heaven,  and  exclaimed,  "  Thank  God  !  war  will  now  be 
ended,  and  peace,  independence  and  happiness  bless 
our  country !" 

Her  housewifery,  industry,  and  care  in  the  manage 
ment  of  her  domestic  concerns,  were  not  intermitted 
during  the  war.  "  She  looketh  well  to  the  ways  of  her 
household,"  and  "worketh  willingly  with  her  hands," 
said  the  wise  man,  in  describing  a  virtuous  woman ; 
and  it  was  the  pride  of  the  exemplary  women  of  that 
day,  to  fill  the  station  of  mistress  with  usefulness  as  well 
as  dignity.  Mrs.  Washington  was  remarkable  for  a 
simplicity  wrhich  modern  refinement  might  call  severe, 
but  which  became  her  not  less  when  her  fortunes  were 
clouded,  than  when  the  sun  of  glory  arose  upon  her 
[house.  Some  of  the  aged  inhabitants  of  Fredericksburg 
long  remembered  the  matron,  "  as  seated  in  an  old-fash 
ioned  open  chaise  she  was  in  the  habit  of  visiting, 
almost  daily,  her  little  farm  in  the  vicinity  of  the  town. 
When  there,  she  would  ride  about  her  fields,  giving  her 


30  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

orders  and  seeing  that  they  were  obeyed."  When  on 
one  occasion  an  agent  departed  from  his  instructions — 
she  reproved  him  for  exercising  his  own  judgment  in 
the  matter  ;  "  I  command  you,"  she  said  ;  there  is  noth 
ing  left  for  you  but  to  obey." 

Her  charity  to  the  poor  was  well  known  ;  and  having 
not  wealth  to  distribute,  it  was  necessary  that  what  her 
benevolence  dispensed  should  be  supplied  by  domestic 
economy  and  industry.  How  peculiar  a  grace  does 
this  impart  to  the  benefits  flowing  from  a  sympathizing 
heart ! 

It  is  thus  that  she  has  been  pictured  in  the  imagina 
tion  of  one  of  our  most  gifted  poets.* 

"  Methinks  we  see  thee,  as  in  olden  time, 
Simple  in  garb,  majestic  and  serene, — 
Unawed  by  'pomp  and  circumstance1 — in  truth 
Inflexible— and  with  a  Spartan  zeal 
Repressing  vice,  and  making  folly  grave. 
Thou  didst  not  deem  it  woman's  part  to  waste 
Life  in  inglorious  sloth,  to  sport  awhile 
Amid  the  flowers,  or  on  the  summer  wave, 
Then  fleet  like  the  ephemeron  away, 
Building  no  temple  in  her  children's  hearts, 
Save  to  the  vanity  and  pride  of  life 
Which  she  had  worshipped." 

Mr.  Custis  states  that  she  was  continually  visited  and 
solaced,  in  the  retirement  of  her  declining  years,  by  her 
children  and  numerous  grandchildren.  Her  daughter, 

*  Mrs.  Sigourney,  in  her  poetical  tribute  on  the  occasion  of  laying 
the  corner-stone  for  the  monument. 


MARY    WASHINGTON.  31 

Mrs.  Lewis,  repeatedly  and  earnestly  solicited  her  to 
remove  to  her  house,  and  there  pass  the  remainder  of 
her  days.  Her  son  pressingly  entreated  her  that  she 
would  make  Mount  Vernon  the  home  of  her  age.  But 
the  matron's  answer  was  :  "  I  thank  you  for  your  affec 
tionate  and  dutiful  offers,  but  my  wants  are  few  in  this 
world,  and  I  feel  perfectly  competent  to  take  care  of 
myself."  To  the  proposition  of  her  son-in-law,  Colonel 
Lewis,  to  relieve  her  by  taking  the  direction  of  her 
concerns,  she  replied :  "  Do  you,  Fielding,  keep  my 
books  in  order ;  for  your  eyesight  is  better  than'  mine : 
but  leave  the  executive  management  to  me."  Such 
were  the  energy  and  independence  she  preserved  to  an 
age  beyond  that  usually  allotted  to  mortals,  and  till 
within  three  years  of  her  death,  when  the  disease  under 
which  she  suffered  (cancer  of  the  breast),  prevented 
exertion. 

Her  meeting  with  Washington,  after  the  victory  which 
decided  the  fortune  of  America,  illustrates  her  character 
too  strikingly  to  be  omitted.  "After  an  absence  of 
nearly  seven  years,  it  was,  at  length,  on  the  return  of 
the  combined  armies  from  Yorktown,  permitted  to  the 
mother  again  to  see  and  embrace  her  illustrious  son.  So 
soon  as  he  had  dismounted,  in  the  midst  of  a  numerous 
and  brilliant  suite,  he  sent  to  apprize  her  of  his  arrival, 
and  to  know  when  it  would  be  her  pleasure  to  receive 
him.  And  now,  mark  the  force  of  early  education  and 
habits,  and  the  superiority  of  the  Spartan  over  the  Per 
sian  schools,  in  this  interview  of  the  great  Washington 
with  his  admirable  parent  and  instructor.  No  pa- 


32  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

geantry  of  war  proclaimed  his  coming— no  trumpets 
sounded — no  banners  waved.  Alone,  and  on  foot,  the 
marshal  of  France,  the  general-in-chief  of  the  com 
bined  armies  of  France  and  America,  the  deliverer  of 
his  country,  the  hero  of  the  age,  repaired  to  pay  his 
humble  duty  to  her  whom  he  venerated  as  the  author 
of  his  being,  the  founder  of  his  fortune  and  his  fame. 
For  full  well  he  knew  that  the  matron  was  made  of 
sterner  stuff  than  to  be  moved  by  all  the  pride  that 
glory  ever  gave,  or  by  all  the  '  pomp  and  circumstance* 
of  power. 

"  The  lady  was  alone — her  aged  hands  employed  in 
the  works  of  domestic  industry,  when  the  good  news 
was  announced  ;  and  it  was  further  told,  that  the  victor- 
chief  was  in  waiting  at  the  threshold.  She  welcomed 
him  with  a  warm  embrace,  and  by  the  well-remembered 
and  endearing  names  of  his  childhood.  Inquiring  as 
to  his  health,  she  remarked  the  lines  which  mighty  cares, 
and  many  trials,  had  made  on  his  manly  countenance — • 
spoke  much  of  old  times,  and  old  friends ;  but  of  his 
*glory,  not  one  word! 

"Meantime,  in  the  village  of  Fredericksburg,  all 
was  joy  and  revelry.  The  town  was  crowded  with 
the  officers  of  the  French  and  American  armies,  and 
with  gentlemen  from  all  the  country  around,  who  has 
tened  to  welcome  the  conquerors  of  Cornwallis.  The 
citizens  made  arrangements  for  a  splendid  ball,  to  which 
the  mother  of  Washington  was  specially  invited.  She 
observed,  that  although  her  dancing  days  were  pretty 


MARY    WASHINGTON.  33 

well  over,  she  should  feel  happy  in  contributing  to  the 
general  festivity,  and  consented  to  attend. 

"  The  foreign  officers  were  anxious  to  see  the  mother 
of  their  chief.  They  had  heard  indistinct  rumors  re 
specting  her  remarkable  life  and  character;  but  forming 
their  judgment  from  European  examples,  they  were 
prepared  to  expect  in  the  mother,  that  glare  and  show 
which  would  have  been  attached  to  the  parents  of  the 
great  in  the  old  world.  How  were  they  surprized  when 
the  matron,  leaning  on  the  arm  of  her  son,  entered  the 
room !  She  was  arrayed  in  the  very  plain,  yet  becom 
ing  garb  worn  by  the  Virginia  lady  of  the  olden  time. 
Her  address,  always  dignified  and  imposing,  was  court 
eous,  though  reserved.  She  received  the  complimentary 
attentions  which  were  profusely  paid  her,  without  evinc 
ing  the  slightest  elevation  ;  and  at  an  early  hour,  wish 
ing  the  company  much  enjoyment  of  their  pleasures, 
and  observing  that  it  was  time  for  old  people  to  be  at 
home,  retired,  leaning  as  before,  on  the  arm  of  her 
son." 

To  this  picture  may  be  added  another : 

"  The  Marquis  de  La  Fayette  repaired  to  Fredericks- 
burg,  previous  to  his  departure  for  Europe,  in  the  fall 
of  1784,  to  pay  his  parting  respects  to  the  mother,  and 
to  ask  her  blessing.  Conducted  by  one  of  her  grand 
sons,  he  approached  the  house,  when  the  young  gen 
tleman  observed :  '  There,  sir,  is  my  grandmother/ 
La  Fayette  beheld — working  in  the  garden,  clad  in  do 
mestic-made  clothes,  and  her  gray  head  covered  with  a 
plain  straw  hat — the  mother  of '  his  hero,  his  friend  and 
2* 


34  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

a  country's  preserver !'  The  lady  saluted  him  kindly, 
observing,  '  Ah,  marquis  !  you  see  an  old  woman  ;  but 
come,  I  can  make  you  welcome  to  my  poor  dwelling, 
without  the  parade  of  changing  my  dress.' " 

To  the  encomiums  lavished  by  the  marquis  on  his 
chief,  the  mother  replied :  "  I  am  not  surprised  at  what 
George  has  done,  for  he  was  always  a  very  good  boy." 
So  simple  in  her  true  greatness  of  soul,  was  this  remark 
able  woman. 

Her  piety  was  ardent ;  and  she  associated  devotion 
with  the  grand  and  beautiful  in  nature.  She  was  in 
the  habit  of  repairing  every  day  for  prayer  to  a  secluded 
spot,  formed  by  rocks  and  trees,  near  her  dwelling. 

After  the  organization  of  the  government,  Washing 
ton  repaired  to  Fredericksburg,  to  announce  to  his 
mother  his  election  to  the  chief  magistracy,  and  bid  her 
farewell,  before  assuming  the  duties  of  his  office  Her 
aged  frame  was  bowed  down  by  disease  ;  and  she  felt 
that  they  were  parting  to  meet  no  more  in  this  world. 
But  she  bade  him  go,  with  heaven's  blessing  and  her 
own,  to  fulfil  the  high  destinies  to  which  he  had  been 
called.  Washington  was  deeply  affected,  and  wept  at 
the  parting. 

The  person  of  Mrs.  Washington  is  described  as  being 
of  the  medium  height,  and  well  proportioned — her  fea 
tures  pleasing,  though  strongly  marked.  There  were 
few  painters  in  the  colonies  in  those  days,  and  no  por 
trait  of  her  is  in  existence.  Her  biographer  saw  her 
but  with  infant  eyes  ;  but  well  remembers  the  sister  of 
the  chief.  Of  her  we  are  told  nothing,  except  that  "  she 


MARY    WASHINGTON.  35 

was  a  most  majestic  woman,  and  so  strikingly  like  the 
brother,  that  it  was  a  matter  of  frolic  to  throw  a  cloak 
around  her,  and  place  a  military  hat  upon  her  head; 
and  such  was  the  perfect  resemblance,  that  had  she 
appeared  on  her  brother's  steed,  battalions  would  have 
presented  arms,  and  senates  risen  to  do  homage  to  the 
chief." 

Mrs.  Washington  died  at  the  age  of  eighty-five,  re 
joicing  in  the  consciousness  of  a  life  well  spent,  and 
the  hope  of  a  blessed  immortality.  Her  ashes  repose 
at  Fredericksburg,  where  a  splendid  monument  has 
been  erected  to  her  memory. 


II. 


ESTHER    REED. 

ESTHER  DE  BERDT  was  born  in  the  city  of  London,  on 
the  22d  of  October,  1746,  (N.  S.,)  and  died  at  Philadel 
phia  on  the  18th  of  September,  1780.  Her  thirty-four 
years  of  life  were  adorned  by  no  adventurous  heroism  ; 
but  were  thickly  studded  with  the  brighter  beauties  of 
feminine  endurance,  uncomplaining  self-sacrifice,  and 
familiar  virtue — under  trials,  too,  of  which  civil  war  is 
so  fruitful.  She  was  an  only  daughter.  Her  father,  Den 
nis  De  Berdt,  was  a  British  merchant,  largely  interested 
in  colonial  trade.  He  was  a  man  of  high  character. 
Descended  from  the  Huguenots,  or  French  Flemings, 
who  came  to  England  on  the  revocation  of  the  Edict 
of  Nantes,  Mr.  De  Berdt's  pure  and  rather  austere 
religious  sentiments  and  practice  were  worthy  of  the 
source  whence  they  came.  His  family  were  educated 
according  to  the  strictest  rule  of  the  evangelical  piety 
of  their  day — the  day  when  devotion,  frozen  out  of 
high  places,  found  refuge  in  humble  dissenting  chapels 
—the  day  of  Wesley  and  of  Whitfield.  Miss  De 
}  Berdt's  youth  was  trained  religiously;  and  she  was  to 
j^the  end  of  life  true  to  the  principles  of  her  education. 
The  simple  devotion  she  had  learned  from  an  aged 


ESTHER    REED.  37 

father's  lips,  alleviated  the  trials  of  youth,  and  bright 
ened  around  her  early  grave. 

Mr.  De  Berdt's  house  in  London,  owing  to  his  busi 
ness  relations  with  the  Colonies,  was  the  home  of 
many  young  Americans  who  at  that  time  were  at 
tracted  by  pleasure  or  duty  to  the  imperial  metropolis. 
Among  these  visitors,  in  or  about  the  year  1763,  was 
Joseph  Reed,  of  New  Jersey,  who  had  come  to  London 
to  finish  his  professional  studies  (such  being  the  fashion 
of  the  times)  at  the  Temple.  Mr.  Reed  was  in  the 
twenty-third  year  of  his  age — a  man  of  education,  in- 
Ljtelligence,  and  accomplishment.  The  intimacy,  thus 
accidentally  begun,  soon  produced  its  natural  fruits ; 
and  an  engagement,  a,t  first  secret,  and  afterwards 
avowed,  was  formed  between  the  young  English  girl 
and  the  American  stranger.  Parental  discouragement, 
so  wise  that  even  youthful  impetuosity  could  find  no 
fault  with  it,  was  entirely  inadequate  to  break  a  connec 
tion  thus  formed.  They  loved  long  and  faithfully — how 
faithfully,  the  reader  will  best  judge  when  he  learns 
that  a  separation  of  five  years  of  deferred  hope,  with 
the  Atlantic  between  them,  never  gave  rise  to  a  wan 
dering  wish,  or  hope,  or  thought. 

Mr.  Reed;  having  finished  his  studies,  returned  to 
America,  in  the  early  part  of  1765,  and  began  the  prac 
tice  of  the  law  in  his  native  village  of  Trenton.  His 
success  was  immediate  and  great.  But  there  was  a 
distracting  element  at  work  in  his  heart,  which  pre* 
vented  him  from  looking  on  success  with  complacency ; 
and  one  plan  after  another  was  suggested,  by  which  he 


38  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

might  be  enabled  to  return  and  settle  in  Great  Britain. 
That  his  young  and  gentle  mistress  should  follow  him 
to  America,  was  a  vision  too  wild  even  for  a  san 
guine  lover.  Every  hope  was  directed  back  to  Eng 
land  ;  and  the  correspondence,  the  love  letters  of  five 
long  years,  are  filled  with  plans  by  which  these  cherish 
ed,  but  delusive  wishes  were  to  be  consummated.  How 
dimly  was  the  future  seen ! 

Miss  De  Berdt's  engagement  with  her  American  lover, 
was  coincident  with  that  dreary  period  of  British  his 
tory,  when  a  monarch  and  his  ministers  were  laboring 
hard  to  tear  from  its  socket,  and  cast  away  far  ever,  the 
brightest  jewel  of  the  imperial  crown — American  colo 
nial  power.  It  was  the  interval  when  Chatham's  voice 
was  powerless  to  arouse  the  Nation,  and  make  Parlia 
ment  pause — when  penny-wise  politicians,  in  the  happy 
phrase  of  the  day,  "teased  America  into  resistance;" 
and  the  varied  vexations  of  stamp  acts,  and  revenue  bills, 
and  tea  duties,  the  congenial  fruits  of  poor  statesman 
ship,  were  the  means  by  which  a  great  catastrophe  was 
hurried  onward.  [Mr.  De  Berdt's  relations  with  Govern 
ment  were,  in  some  respects,  direct  and  intimate. 
His  house  was  a  place  of  counsel  for  those  who  sought, 
by  moderate  and  constitutional  means,  to  stay  the  hand 
of  misgovernment  and  oppression.  He  was  the  Agent 
of  the  Stamp  Act  Congress  first,  and  of  the  Colonies 
of  Delaware  and  Massachusetts,  afterwards.  And  most 
gallantly  did  the  brave  old  man  discharge  the  duty  which 
his  American  constituents  confided  to  him.  His  heart 
was  in  his  trust  ;j  and  we  may  well  imagine  the  alterna- 


ESTHER    REED.  39 

tions  of  feeling  which  throbbed  in  the  bosom  of  his 
daughter,  as  she  shared  in  the  consultations  of  this 
almost  American  household ;  and  according  to  the 
fitful  changes  of  time  and  opinion,  counted  the  chances 
of  discord  that  might  be  fatal  to  her  peace,  or  of 
honorable  pacification  which  should  bring  her  lover 
home  to  her.  \  Miss  De  Berdt's  letters,  mow  in  the  pos 
session  of  her  descendants, 'are  full  of  allusions  to  this 
varying  state  of  things,  and'are  remarkable  for  the  saga 
cious  good  sense  which  they  develope.  She  is,  from 
first  to  last,  a  stout  American^]  Describing  a  visit  to 
the  House  of  Commons,  in  April,  1766,  her  enthusiasm 
for  Mr.  Pitt  is  unbounded,  while  she  does  not  disguise 
her  repugnance  to  George  Grenville  and  Wedderburn, 
whom  she  says  she  cannot  bear,  because  "  they  are  such 
enemies  to  America."  So  it  is  throughout,  in  every 
line  she  writes,  in  every  word  she  utters  ;  and  thus 
was  she,  unconsciously,  receiving  that  training  which 
in  the  end  was  to  fit  her  for  an  American  patriot's 
wife. 

Onward,  however,  step  by  step,  the  Monarch  and  his 
Ministry — he,  if  possible,  more  infatuated  than  they — 
advanced  in  the  career  of  tyrannical  folly.  Remon 
strance  was  vain.  They  could  not  be  persuaded  that 
it  would  ever  become  resistance.  In  1769  and  1770, 
the  crisis  was  almost  reached.  Five  years  of  folly  had 
done  it  all.  In  the  former  of  these  years,  the  lovers 
were  re-united,  Mr.  Reed  returning  on  an  uncertain 
visit  to  England.  He  found  everything,  but  her  faithful 
affection,  changed.  Political  disturbance  had  had  its 


40  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

usual  train  of  commercial  disaster ;  and  Mr.  De  Berdt 
had  not  only  become  bankrupt,  but  unable  to  rally  on 
such  a  reverse  in  old  age,  had  sunk  into  his  grave. 
All  was  ruin  and  confusion  ;  and  on  the  31st  of  May, 
1770,  Esther  De  Berdt  became  an  American  wife, 
the  wedding  being  privately  solemnized  at  St.  Luke's 
Church,  in  the  city  of  London. 

In  October,  the  young  couple  sailed  for  America,  ar 
riving  at  Philadelphia  in  November,  1770.  Mr.  Reed 
immediately  changed  his  residence  from  Trenton  to 
Philadelphia,  where  he  continued  to  live.  Mrs.  Reed's 
correspondence  with  her  brother  and  friends  in  England, 
during  the  next  five  years,  has  not  been  preserved.  It 
would  have  been  interesting,  as  showing  the  impressions 
made  on  an  intelligent  mind  by  the  primitive  state  of 
society  and  modes  of  life  in  these  wild  Colonies,  some 
eighty  years  ago,  when  Philadelphia  was  but  a  large 
village — when  the  best  people  lived  in  Front  street,  or 
on  the  water-side,  and  an  Indian  frontier  was  within 
an  hundred  miles  of  the  Schuylkill.  They  are,  how 
ever,  all  lost.  The  influence  of  Mrs.  Reed's  foreign 
connections  can  be  traced  only  in  the  interesting  cor 
respondence  between  her  husband  and  Lord  Dartmouth, 
during  the  years  1774  and  1775,  which  has  been  re 
cently  given  to  the  public,  and  which  narrates,  in  the 
most  genuine  and  trust-worthy  form,  the  progress  of 
colonial  discontent  in  the  period  immediately  anterior 
to  actual  revolution.  In  all  the  initiatory  measures  of 
peaceful  resistance,  Mr.  Reed,  as  is  well  known,  took  a 
large  and  active  share ;  and  in  all  he  did,  he  had  his 


ESTHER    REED.  41 

young  wife's  ardent  sympathy.     The  English  girl  had 
grown  at  once  into  the  American  matron. 

Philadelphia  was  then  the  heart  of-  the  nation.  It 
beat  generously  and  boldly  when  the  news  of  Lexing 
ton  and  Bunker's  Hill  startled  the  whole  land.  Volun 
teer  troops  were  raised — money  in  large  sums  was 
remitted,  much  through  Mr.  Reed's  direct  agency,  for 
the  relief  of  the  sufferers  in  New  England,  At  last,  a 
new  and  controlling  incident  here  occurred.  It  was  in 
Philadelphia  that,  walking  in  the  State  House  yard, 
John  Adams  first  suggested  Washington  as  the  Na 
tional  Commander-in-chief;  and  from  Philadelphia  that 
in  June,  1775,  Washington  set  out,  accompanied  by 
the  best  citizens  of  the  liberal  party,  to  enter  on  his 
duties.* 

*  As  this  memoir  was  in  preparation,  the  writer's  eye  was  attracted 
by  a  notice  of  the  Philadelphia  obsequies  of  John  Q.  Adams,  in  March, 
1818.  It  is  from  the  New  York  Courier  and  Enquirer  : 

"That  part  of  the  ceremonial  which  was  most  striking,  more  im 
pressive  than  any  thing  I  have  ever  seen,  was  the  approach  through  the 
old  State  House  yard  to  Independence  Hall.  I  have  stood  by  Napo 
leon's  dramatic  mausoleum  in  the  Invalides,  and  mused  over  the  more 
simple  tomb  of  Nelson,  lying  by  the  side  of  Collingwood,  in  the  crypt 
of  St.  Paul's  ;  but,  no  impression  was  made  like  that  of  yesterday. 
The  multitude — for  the  crowd  had  grown  into  one— being  strictly  ex 
cluded  from  the  square,  filled  the  surrounding  streets  and  houses,  and 
gazed  silently  on  the  simple  ceremonial  before  them.  It  was  sunset, 
or  nearly  so — a  calm,  bright  spring  evening.  There  was  no  cheer 
ing,  no  disturbance,  no  display  of  banners,  no  rude  sound  of  drum. 
The  old  trees  were  leafless ;  and  no  one's  free  vision  was  disap 
pointed.  The  funeral  escort  proper,  consisting  of  the  clergy,  com 
prising  representatives  of  nearly  all  denominations,  the  commit 
tee  of  Congress,  and  the  city  authorities — in  all,  not  exceeding  a 


42  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

Mr.  Reed  accompanied  him,  as  his  family  supposed, 
and  as  he  probably  intended,  only  as  part  of  an  escort, 
for  a  short  distance.  From  New  York  he  wrote 
to  his  wife  that,  yielding  to  the  General's  solicitations, 
he  had  become  a  soldier,  and  joined  the  staff  as  Aid, 
and  Military  Secretary.  The  young  mother — for  she 
was  then  watching  by  the  cradle  of  two  infant  chil 
dren — neither  repined  nor  murmured.  She  knew  that 
it  was  no  restless  freak,  or  transient  appetite  for  excite- 

hundred,  with  the  body  and  pall  bearers,  alone  were  admitted. 
They  walked  slowly  up  the  middle  path  from  the  south  gate, 
no  sound  being  heard  at  the  point  from  which  I  saw  it,  b*t  the  dis 
tant  and  gentle  music  of  one  military  band  near  the  Hall,  and  the 
deep  tones  of  our  ancient  bell  that  rang  when  Independence  was  pro 
claimed.  The  military  escort,  the  company  of  Washington  Greys,  whose 
duty  it  was  to  guard  the  body  during  the  night,  presented  arms  as  the 
coffin  went  by  ;  and  as  the  procession  approached  the  Hall,  the  clergy, 
and  all  others,  uncovered  themselves,  and,  as  if  awed  by  the  genius 
of  the  place,  approached  reverently  and  solemnly.  This  simple  and 
natural  act  of  respect,  or  rather  reverence,  was  most  touching.  It 
was  a  thing  never  to  be  forgotten.  This  part  of  the  ceremonial  was 
what  I  should  like  a  foreigner  to  see.  It  was  genuine  and  simple. 

"  And  thoughout,  remember,  illusion  had  nothing  to  do  with  it. 
These  were  simple,  actual  realities,  that  thus  stirred  the  heart.  It 
was  no  empty  memorial  coffin  ;  but  here  were  the  actual  honored  re 
mains  of  one  who  was  part  of  our  history — the  present,  the  recent, 
and  remote  past.  And  who  could  avoid  thinking,  if  any  spark  of 
consciousness  remained  in  the  old  man's  heart,  it  might  have  bright 
ened  as  he  was  borne  along  by  the  best  men  of  Philadelphia,  on  this 
classic  path,  in  the  shadow  of  this  building,  and  to  the  sound  of  this 
bell.  The  last  of  the  days  of  Washington  was  going  by,  and  it  was 
traversing  the  very  spot,  where,  seventy  years  ago,  John  Adams  had 
first  suggested  Washington  as  Commander-in-chief  of  the  army  of  the 
Revolution.  It  reposed  last  night  in  Independence  Hall." 


ESTHER    REED.  43 

ment,  that  took  away  her  husband ;  for  no  one  was 
more  conscious  than  she,  how  dear  his  cheerful  home 
was.  and  what  swreet  companionship  there  was  in 
the  mother  and  her  babes.  It  was  not  difficult  to 
be  satisfied  that  a  high  sense  of  duty  was  his  control 
ling  influence,  and  that  hers  it  was  "to  love  and  be 
silent." 

At  Philadelphia  she  remained  during  Mr.  Reed's  first 
tour  of  duty  at  Cambridge ;  and  afterwards,  in  1776, 
when  being  appointed  Adjutant-General,  he  rejoined 
the  army  at  New  York.  In  the  summer  of  that  year, 
she  took  her  little  family  to  Burlington ;  and  in  the  win 
ter,  on  the  approach  of  the  British  invading  forces,  took 
deeper  refuge  at  a  little  farm-house  near  Evesham,  and 
at  no  great  distance  from  the  edge  of  the  Pines. 

We,  contented  citizens  of  a  peaceful  land,  can  form 
little  conception  of  the  horrors  and  desolation  of  those 
ancient  times  of  trial.  The  terrors  of  invasion  are 
things  which  now-a-days  imagination  can  scarcely  com 
pass.  But  then,  it  was  rugged  reality.  The  unbridled 
passions  of  a  mercenary  soldiery,  compounded  not  only 
of  the  brutal  element  that  forms  the  vigor  of  every 
army,  but  of  the  ferocity  of  Hessians,  hired  and  paid 
for  violence  and  rapine,  were  let  loose  on  the  land. 
The  German  troops,  as  if  to  inspire  especial  terror,  were 
sent  in  advance,  and  occupied,  in  December,  1776,  a 
chain  of  posts  extending  from  Trenton  to  Mount  Holly, 
Rhal  commanding  at  the  first,  and  Donop  at  the  other. 
General  Howe,  and  his  main  army,  were  rapidly  ad 
vancing  by  the  great  route  to  the  Delaware.  On  the 


44  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

other  hand,  the  river  was  filled  with  American  gondolas, 
whose  crews,  landing  from  time  to  time  on  the  Jersey 
shore,  by  their  lawlessness,  and  threats  of  retaliation, 
kept  the  pacific  inhabitants  in  continual  alarm.  The 
American  army,  if  it  deserved  the  name,  was  literally 
scattered  along  the  right  bank  of  the  Delaware ;  Mr. 
Reed  being  with  a  small  detachment  of  Philadelphia 
volunteers,  under  Cadwalader,  at  Bristol. 

Family  tradition  has  described  the  anxious  hours 
passed  by  the  sorrowing  group  at  Evesham.  It  con 
sisted  of  Mrs.  Reed,  who  had  recently  been  confined, 
and  was  in  feeble  health,  her  three  children,  an  aged 
mother,  and  a  female  friend, -also  a  soldier's  wife:  the 
only  male  attendant  being  a  boy  of  fourteen  or  fifteen 
years  of  age.  If  the  enemy  were  to  make  a  sudden 
advance,  they  would  be  entirely  cut  off  from  the  ordi 
nary  avenues  of  escape ;  and  precautions  were  taken  to 
avoid  this  risk.  The  wagon  was  ready,  to  be  driven  by 
the  boy  we  have  spoken  of,  and  the  plan  was  matured, 
if  they  failed  to  get  over  the  river  at  Dunk's  or  Cooper's 
Ferry,  to  cross  lower  down,  near  Salem,  and  push  on  to 
the  westward  settlements.  The  wives  and  children  of 
American  patriot-soldiers  thought  themselves  safer  on 
the  perilous  edge  of  an  Indian  wilderness,  than  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  soldiers  who,  commanded  by  no 
blemen — by  "men  of  honor  and  cavaliers,"  for  such, 
according  to  all  heraldry,  were  the  Howes  and  Corn- 
wallises,  the  Percies  and  Rawdons  of  that  day — were 
sent  by  a  gracious  monarch  to  lay  waste  this  land. 
The  English  campaigning  of  our  Revolution — and  no 


ESTHER    REED.  45 

part  of  it  more  so  than  this — is  the  darkest  among  the 
dark  stains  that  disfigure  the  history  of  the  eighteenth 
century ;  and  if  ever  there  be  a  ground  for  hereditary 
animosity,  we  have  it  in  the  fresh  record  of  the  outrages 
which  the  military  arm  of  Great  Britain  committed  on 
this  soil.  The  transplanted  sentimentalism  which  now- 
a-days  calls  George  III.  a  wise  and  great  monarch,  is 
absolute  treason  to  America.  There  was  in  the  one 
Colony  of  New  Jersey,  and  in  a  single  year,  blood 
enough  shed,  and  misery  enough  produced,  to  outweigh 
all  the  spurious  merits  which  his  admirers  can  pre 
tend  to  claim.  And  let  such  for  ever  be  the  judgment 
of  American  history. 

It  is  worth  a  moment's  meditation  to  pause  and  think 
of  the  sharp  contrasts  in  our  heroine's  life.  The  short  in 
terval  of  less  than  six  years  had  changed  her  not  merely 
to  womanhood,  but  to  womanhood  with  extraordinary 
trials.  Her  youth  was  passed  in  scenes  of  peaceful 
prosperity,  with  no  greater  anxiety  than  for  a  distant 
lover,  and  with  all  the  comforts  which  independence 
and  social  position  could  supply.  She  had  crossed  the 
ocean  a  bride,  content  to  follow  the  fortunes  of  her 
young  husband,  though  she  little  dreamed  what  they 
were  to  be.  She  had  become  a  mother  ;  and,  while 
watching  by  the  cradle  of  her  infants,  had  seen  her 
household  broken  up  by  war  in  its  worst  form — the  in 
ternecine  conflict  of  brothers  in  arms  against  each  other 
— her  husband  called  away  to  scenes  of  bloody  peril,  and 
forced,  herself,  to  seek  uncertain  refuge  in  a  wilderness. 
She  too,  let  it  be  remembered,  was  a  native-born  Eng- 


46  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

lishwoman,  with  all  the  loyal  sentiments  that  beat  by 
instinct  in  an  Englishwoman's  heart — reverence  for  the 
throne,  the  monarch,  and  for  all  the  complex  institutions 
which  hedge  that  mysterious  oracular  thing  called  the 
British  Constitution.  "  God  save  the  king/'  was  neither 
then,  nor  is  it  now,  a  formal  prayer  on  the  lips  of  a 
British  maiden.  Coming  to  America,  all  this  was 
changed.  Loyalty  was  a  badge  of  crime.  The  king's 
friends  were  her  husband's  and  her  new  country's 
worst  enemies.  That  which,  in  the  parks  of  London, 
or  at  the  Horse-Guards,  she  had  admired  as  the  holiday 
pageantry  of  war,  had  become  the  fearful  apparatus  of 
savage  hostility.  She,  an  Englishwoman,  was  a  fugi 
tive  from  the  brutality  of  English  soldiers.  Her  des 
tiny,  her  fortunes,  and  more  than  all,  her  thoughts, 
and  hopes,  and  wishes,  were  changed ;  and  happy 
was  it  for  her  husband  that  they  were  changed  com 
pletely  and  thoroughly,  and  that  her  faith  to  household 
loyalty  was  exclusive. 

Hers  it  was,  renouncing  all  other  allegiance — 

"  In  war  or  peace,  in  sickness,  or  in  health, 
In  trouble  and  in  danger,  and  distress, 
Through  time  and  through  eternity,  to  love." 

"I  have  received,"  she  writes,  in  June,  1777,  to  her 
husband,  "  both  my  friend's  letters.  They  have  contri 
buted  to  raise  my  spirits,  which,  though  low  enough, 
are  better  than  when  you  parted  with  me.  The  reflec 
tion  how  much  I  pain  you  by  my  want  of  resolution, 
and  the  double  distress  I  occasion  you,  when  I  ought 


ESTHER    REED.  47 

-••« 

to  make  your  duty  as  light  as  possible,  would  tend  to 
depress  my  spirits,  did  I  not  consider  that  the  best  and 
only  amends  is,  to  endeavor  to  resume  my  cheerfulness, 
and  regain  my  usual  spirits.  I  wish  you  to  know,  my 
dearest  friend,  that  I  have  done  this  as  much  as  possible, 
and  beg  you  to  free  your  mind  from  every  care  on  this 
head." 

But  to  return  to  the  narrative — interrupted,  naturally, 
by  thoughts  like  these.  The  reverses  which  the  British 
army  met  at  Trenton  and  Princeton,  with  the  details 
of  which  every  one  is  presumed  to  be  familiar,  saved 
that  part  of  New  Jersey  where  Mrs.  Reed  and  her 
family  resided,  from  further  danger ;  and  on  the  retreat 
of  the  enemy,  and  the  consequent  relief  of  Philadelphia 
from  further  alarm,  she  returned  to  her  home.  She 
returned  there  with  pride  as  well  as  contentment ; 
for  her  husband,  inexperienced  soldier  as  he  was,  had 
earned  military  fame  of  no  slight  eminence.  He  had 
been  in  nearly  every  action,  and  always  distinguished. 
Washington  had,  on  all  occasions,  and  at  last  in  an 
especial  manner,  peculiarly  honored  him.  The  patriots 
of  Philadelphia  hailed  him  back  among  them  ;  and  the 
wife's  smile  of  welcome  was  not  less  bright  because 
she  looked  with  pride  upon  her  husband. 

Brief,  however,  was  the  new  period  of  repose.  The 
English  generals,  deeply  mortified  at  their  discomfiture 
in  New  Jersey,  resolved  on  a  new  and  more  elaborate 
attempt  on  Philadelphia  ;  and  in  July,  1777,  set  sail  with 
the  most  complete  equipment  they  had  yet  been  able  to 
prepare,  for  the  capes  of  the  Chesapeake.  On  the  land- 


48  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

ing  of  the  British  army  at  the  head  of  Elk,  and  during 
the  military  movements  that  followed,  Mrs.  Reed  was 
at  Norristown,  and  there  remained,  her  husband  having 
again  joined  the  army,  till  after  the  battle  of  Brandy- 
wine,  when  she  and  her  children  were  removed  first  to 
Burlington,  and  thence  to  Flemington.  Mr.  Reed's 
hurried  letters  show  the  imminent  danger  that  even 
women  and  children  ran  in  those  days  of  confusion. 
"  It  is  quite  uncertain,"  he  writes  on  14th  September, 
1777,  "which  way  the  progress  of  the  British  army 
may  point.  Upon  their  usual  plan  of  movement,  they 
will  cross,  or  endeavor  to  cross,  the  Schuylkill,  some 
where  near  my  house  ;  in  which  case  I  shall  be  very 
dangerously  situated.  If  you  could  possibly  spare  Cato, 
with  your  light  wagon,  to  be  with  me  to  assist  in  get 
ting  off  if  there  should  be  necessity,  I  shall  be  very 
glad.  I  have  but  few  things  beside  the  women  and 
children  ;  but  yet,  upon  a  push,  one  wagon  and  two 
horses  would  be  too  little."  Mrs.  Reed's  letters  show 
her  agonized  condition,  alarmed  as  she  was,  at  the  con 
tinual  and  peculiar  risk  her  husband  was  running.  A 
little  later  (in  February,  1778),  Mrs.  Reed  says,  in  writ 
ing  to  a  dear  female  friend  :  "  This  season  which  used 
to  be  so  long  and  tedious,  has,  to  me,  been  swift,  and 
no  sooner  come  than  nearly  gone.  Not  from  the  plea 
sures  it  has  brought,  but  the  fears  of  what  is  to  come  ; 
and,  indeed,  on  many  accounts,  winter  has  become  the 
only  season  of  peace  and  safety.  Returning  spring 
will,  I  fear,  bring  a  return  of  bloodshed  and  destruction 
to  our  country.  That  it  must  do  so  to  this  part  of  it, 


ESTHER    REED.  49 

seems  unavoidable ;  and  how  much  of  the  distress  we 
may  feel  before  we  are  able  to  move  from  it,  I  am  un 
able  to  say.  I  sometimes  fear  a  great  deal.  It  has 
already  become  too  dangerous  for  Mr.  Reed  to  be  at 
home  more  than  one  day  at  a  time,  and  that  seldom  and 
uncertain.  Indeed,  I  am  easiest  when  he  is  from  home, 
as  his  being  here  brings  danger  with  it.  There  are  so 
many  disaffected  to  the  cause  of  their  country,  that 
they  lie  in  wait  for  those  who  are  active  ;  but  I  trust 
that  the  same  kind  presiding  Power  which  has  preserv 
ed  him  from  the  hands  of  his  enemies,  will  still  do  it." 

Nor  were  her  fears  unreasonable.  The  neighborhood 
of  Philadelphia,  after  it  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy, 
was  infested  by  gangs  of  armed  loyalists,  who  threatened 
the  safety  of  every  patriot  whom  they  encountered. 
Tempted  by  the  hard  money  which  the  British  promised 
them,  they  dared  any  danger,  and  were  willing  to 
commit  any  enormity.  It  was  these  very  ruffians,  and 
their  wily  abettors,  for  whom  afterwards  so  much  false 
sympathy  was  invoked.  Mr.  Reed  and  his  family, 
though  much  exposed,  happily  escaped  these  dangers. 

During  the  military  operations  of  the  Autumn  of  1777, 
Mr.  Reed  was  again  attached  as  a  volunteer  to  Wash 
ington's  staff,  and  during  the  winter  that  followed — the 
worst  that  America's  soldiers  saw — he  was  at,  or  in  the 
immediate  neighborhood,  of  Valley  Forge,  as  one  of  a 
committee  of  Congress,  of  which  body  he  had  some  time 
before  been  chosen  a  member.  Mrs.  Reed  with  her 
mother  and  her  little  family  took  refuge  at  Flemington, 
in  the  upper  part  of  New  Jersey.  She  remained  there 
3 


50  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

till  after  the  evacuation  of  Philadelphia  and  the  battle 
of  Monmouth,  in  June,  1778. 

While  thus  separated  from  her  husband,  and  residing 
at  Flemington,  new  domestic  misfortune  fell  on  her,  in 
the  death  of  one  of  her  children  by  small -pox.  How 
like  an  affectionate  heart-stricken  mother  is  the  following 
passage,  from  a  letter  written  at  that  time.  Though  it  has 
no  peculiar  beauty  of  style,  there  is  a  touching  gen 
uineness  which  every  reader — at  least  those  who  know 
a  mother's  heart  under  such  affliction — will  appreciate. 

"  Surely,"  says  she,  "  my  affliction  has  had  its  aggra 
vation,  and  I  cannot  help  reflecting  on  my  neglect  of 
my  dear  lost  child.  For  thoughtful  and  attentive  to  my 
own  situation,  I  did  not  take  the  necessary  precaution 
to  prevent  that  fatal  disorder  when  it  was  %.  my  power. 
Surely  I  ought  to  take  blame  to  myself.  I  would  not 
do  it  to  aggravate  my  sorrow,  but  to  learn  a  lesson  of 
humility,  and  more  caution  and  prudence  in  future. 
Would  to  God  I  could  learn  every  lesson  intended  by 
the  stroke.  1  think  sometimes  of  my  loss  with  com 
posure,  acknowledging  the  wisdom,  right,  and  even  the 
kindness  of  the  dispensation.  Again  I  feel  it  overcome 
me,  and  strike  the  very  bottom  of  my  heart,  and  tell  me 
the  work  is  not  yet  finished!' 

Nor  was  it  finished,  though  in  a  sense  different  from 
what  she  apprehended.  Her  children  were  spared,  but 
her  own  short  span  of  life  was  nearly  run.  Trial  and 
perplexity  and  separation  from  home  and  husband 
were  doing  their  work.  Mrs.  Reed  returned  to  Phila 
delphia,  the  seat  of  actual  warfare  being  for  ever  removed, 


ESTHER    REED.  51 

to  apparent  comfort  and  high  social  position.  In  the 
fall  of  1778,  Mr.  Reed  was  elected  President,  or  in  the 
language  of  our  day,  Governor  of  Pennsylvania.  His 
administration,  its  difficulties  and  ultimate  success 
belong  to  the-  history  of  the  country,  and  have  been 
elsewhere  illustrated.  It  was  from  first  to  last  a  period  of 
intense  political  excitement,  and  Mr.  Reed  was  the  high 
target  at  which  the  sharp  and  venomous  shafts  of  party 
virulence  were  chiefly  shot. 

The  suppressed  poison  of  loyalism  mingled  with  the 
ferocity  of  ordinary  political  animosity,  and  the  scene 
was  in  every  respect  discreditable  to  all  concerned. 
Slander  of  every  sort  was  freely  propagated.  Personal 
violence  was  threatened.  Gentlemen  went  armed  in 
the  streets  ol  Philadelphia.  Folly  on  one  hand  and 
fanaticism  on  the  other,  put  in  jeopardy  the  lives  of 
many  distinguished  citizens,  in  October,  1779,  and 
Mr.  Reed  by  his  energy  and  discretion  saved  them. 
There  is  extant  a  letter  from  his  wife,  written  to  a  friend, 
on  the  day  of  what  is  well  known  in  Philadelphia,  as 
the  Fort  Wilson  riot,  dated  at  Germantown,  which 
shows  her  fears  for  her  husband's  safety  were  not  less 
reasonable,  when  he  was  exposed  to  the  fury  of  an 
excited  populace,  than  to  the  legitimate  hostility  of  an 
enemy  on  the  field  of  battle  : 

"  Dear  Sir  : — I  would  not  take  a  moment  of  your  time 
to  tell  you  the  distress  and  anxiety  I  feel,  but  only  to  beg 
you  to  let  me  know  in  what  state  things  are,  and  what  is 
likely  to  be  the  consequence.  I  write  not  to  Mr.  Reed 
because  I  know  he  is  not  in  a  situation  to  attend  to  me. 


52  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

I  conjure  you  by  the  friendship  you  have  for  Mr.  Reed, 
don't  leave  him. — E.  R." 

And  throughout  this  scene  of  varied  perplexity,  when 
the  heart  of  the  statesman  was  oppressed  by  trouble 
without — disappointment,  ingratitude — all  that  makes 
a  politician's  life  so  wretched,  he  was  sure 'to  find  his 
home  happy,  his  wife  smiling  and  contented,  with  nc 
visible  sorrow  to  impair  her  welcome,  and  no  murmur  tc 
break  the  melody  of  domestic  joy.  It  sustained  him  tc 
the  end.  This  was  humble,  homely  heroism,  but  it  did 
its  good  work  in  cheering  and  sustaining  a  spirit  thai 
might  otherwise  have  broken.  Let  those  disparage  it 
who  have  never  had  the  solace  which  such  companion 
ship  affords,  or  who  never  have  known  the^bitter  sorrow 
of  its  loss. 

In  May,  1780,  Mrs.  Reed's  youngest  son  was  born.  It 
was  of  him,  that  Washington,  a  month  later  wrote,  "i 
warmly  thank  you  for  calling  the  young  Christian  by 
my  name,"  and  it  was  he  who  more  than  thirty  years 
afterwards,  died  in  the  service  of  his  country,*  not  less 
gloriously  because  his  was  not  a  death  of  triumph.  Il 
was  in  the  fall  of  this  year,  that  the  ladies  of  Philadel 
phia  united  in  their  remarkable  and  generous  contribu 
tion  for  the  relief  of  the  suffering  soldiers,  by  supplying 
them  with  clothing.  Mrs.  Reed-wTas  placed,  by  theii 
united  suffrage,  at  the  head  of  this  association.  The 

*  George  Washington  Reed,  a  Commander  in  the  U.  S.  Navy,  died  £ 
prisoner  of  war  in  Jamaica,  in  1813.  He  refused  a  parole,  because  un 
willing  to  leave  his  crew  in  a  pestilential  climate ;  and  himself 
perished. 


ESTHER    REED.  53 

French  Secretary  of  Legation,  M.  de  Marbois,  in  a  letter 
that  has  been  published,  tells  her  she  is  called  to  the  office 
as  "the  best  patriot,  the  most  zealous  and  active,  and  the 
most  attached  to  the  interests  of  her  country."  Notwith 
standing  the  feeble  state  of  her  health,  Mrs.  Reed  entered 
upon  her  duties  with  great  animation.  The  work  was 
congenial  to  her  feelings.  It  was  charity  in  its  genuine 
form  and  from  its  purest  source — the  voluntary  out 
pouring  from  the  heart.  It  was  not  stimulated  by 
the  excitements  of  our  day — neither  fancy  fairs,  nor 
bazaars ;  but  the  American  women  met,  and  seeing  the 
necessity  that  asked  interposition,  relieved  it.  They 
solicited  money  and  other  contributions  directly,  and 
for  a  precise  and  avowed  object.  They  labored  with 
their  needles  and  sacrificed  their  trinkets  and  jewelry. 
The  result  was  very  remarkable.  The  aggregate 
amount  of  contributions  in  the  City  and  County  of 
Philadelphia,  was  not  less  than  7,500  dollars,  specie; 
much  of  it,  too,  paid  in  hard  money,  at  a  time  of  the 
greatest  appreciation.  "All  ranks  of  society,"  says 
President  Reed's  biographer,  "  seem  to  have  joined  in 
the  liberal  effort,  from  Phillis,  the  colored  woman,  with 
her  humble  seven  shillings  and  six  pence,  to  the  Mar 
chioness  de  La  layette,  who  contributed  one  hundred 
guineas  in  specie,  and  the  Countess  de  Luzerne,  who 
gave  six  thousand  dollars  in  continental  paper."  La  Fay- 
ette's  gentlemanly  letter  to  Mrs.  Reed  is  worth  preserv 
ing. 


54 


WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 


HEAD  QUARTERS,  June  the  25th,  1780. 
MADAM, 

In  admiring  the  new  resolution,  in  which  the  fair  ones  of 
Philadelphia  have  taken  the  lead.  I  am  induced  to  feel  for  those 
American  ladies,  who  being  out  of  the  Continent  cannot  participate 
in  this  patriotic  measure.  I  know  of  one  who,  heartily  wishing 
for  a  personal  acquaintance  with  the  ladies  of  America,  would 
feel  particularly  happy  to  be  admitted  among  them  on  the  present 
occasion.  Without  presuming  to  break  in  upon  the  rules  of  your 
respected  association;  may  t  most  humbly  present  myself  as  her 
ambassador  to  the  confederate  ladies,  and  solicit  in  her  name  that 
Mrs.  President  be  pleased  to  accept  of  her  offering. 

With  the  highest  respect,  I  have  the  honor  to  be, 

Madam,  your  most  obedient  servant, 

LA  FAYETTE. 

Mrs.  Reed's  correspondence  with  the  Commander-in- 
chief  on  the  subject  of  the  mode  of  administering  relief 
to  the  poor  soldiers,  has  been  already  published,*  and  is 
very  creditable  to  both  parties.  Her  letters  are  marked 
by  business-like  intelligence  and  sound  feminine  common 
sense,  on  subjects  of  which  as  a  secluded  women  she 
could  have  personally  no  previous  knowledge,  and 
Washington,  as  has  been  truly  observed,  "writes  as 
judiciously  on  the  humble  topic  of  soldier's  shirts,  as  on 
the  plan  of  a  campaign  or  the  subsistence  of  an  army." 

All  this  time,  it  must  be  born  in  mind,  it  was  a  feeble, 
delicate  woman,  who  was  thus  writing  and  laboring, 
her  husband  again  away  from  her  with  the  army,  and 
her  family  cares  and  anxieties  daily  multiplying.  She 

*  Life  and  Correspondence  of  President  Reed. 


ESTHER    REED.  55 

writes  from  her  country  residence  on  the  banks  of 
Schuylkill,  as  late  as  the  22d  of  August,  1780:  "I  am 
most  anxious  to  get  to  town,  because  here  I  can  do 
little  for  the  soldiers."  But  the  body  and  the  heroic  spirit 
were  alike  overtasked,  and  in  the  early  part  of  the  next 
month,  alarming  disease  developed  itself,  and  soon  ran 
its  fatal  course.  On  the  18th  of  September,  1780— her 
aged  mother,  her  husband  and  little  children,  the  oldest 
ten  years  old,  mourning  around  her — she  breathed  her 
last  at  the  early  age  of  thirty -four.  There  was  deep 
and  honest  sorrow  in  Philadelphia,  when  the  news  was 
circulated  that  Mrs.  Reed  was  dead.  It  stilled  for  a 
moment  the  violence  of  party  spirit.  All  classes  united 
in  a  hearty  tribute  to  her  memory. 

Nor  is  it  inappropriate  in  closing  this  brief  memoir, 
to  notice  a  coincidence  in  local  history ;  a  contrast  in 
the  career  and  fate  of  two  women  of  these  times,  which 
is  strongly  picturesque. 

It  was  on  the  25th  of  September,  1780,  seven  days 
after  Mrs.  Reed  was  carried  to  her  honored  grave,  and 
followed  thither  by  crowds  of  her  own  and  her  husband's 
friends,  that  the  wife  of  Benedict  Arnold,  a  native  born 
Philadelphia  woman,  was  stunned  by  the  news  of  her 
husband's  detected  treachery  and  dishonor.  Let  those 
who  doubt  the  paramount  duty  of  every  man  and  every 
woman,  too,  to  their  country,  and  the  sure  destiny  of  all 
who  are  false  to  it,  meditate  on  this  contrast.  Mrs. 
Arnold  had  been  a  leader  of  what  is  called  fashion,  in 
her  native  city,  belonging  to  the  spurious  aristocracy 
of  a  provincial  town — a  woman  of  beauty  and  accomplish- 


56  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

ment  and  rank.  Her  connections  were  all  thorough 
and  sincere  loyalists,  and  Arnold  had  won  his  way  into 
a  circle  generally  exclusive  and  intolerant  by  his  known 
disaffection,  and  especially  his  insolent  opposition  to  the 
local  authorities,  and  to  Mr.  Reed  as  the  chief  executive 
magistrate.  The  aristocratic  beauty  smiled  kindly  on 
a  lover  who  felt  the  same  antipathies  she  had  been 
taught  to  cherish.  While  Mrs.  Reed  and  her  friends 
were  toiling  to  relieve  the  wants  of  the  suffering  soldiers 
— in  June,  July  and  August,  1780,  Mrs.  Arnold  was 
communing  with  her  husband,  not  in  plans  of  treason, 
but  in  all  his  hatreds  and  discontents.  He  probably  did 
not  trust  her  with  the  whole  of  the  perilous  stuff  that 
was  fermenting  in  his  heart ;  for  it  was  neither  neces 
sary  nor  safe  to  do  so.  But  he  knew  her  nature  and 
habits  of  thought  well  enough  to  be  sure  that  if  success 
crowned  his  plan  of  treason,  and  if  honors  and  rewards 
were  earned,  his  wife  would  not  frown,  or  reject  them 
because  they  had  been  won  by  treachery.  And  he 
played  his  game  out,  boldly,  resolutely,  confidently. 
The  patriot  woman  of  Philadelphia  sank  into  her  grave, 
honored  and  lamented  by  those  among  whom  so  recently 
she  had  come  a  stranger.  Her  tomb,  alongside  of  that 
of  her  husband,  still  stands  on  the  soil  of  her  country. 
The  fugitive  wife  of  an  American  traitor  fled  for  ever 
from  her  home  and  native  soil,  and  died  abroad  un 
noticed,  and  by  her  husband's  crime  dishonored.  She 
was  lost  in  a  traitor's  ignominy.  Such  was  then  and 
such  ever  will  be,  the  fate  of  all  who  betray  a  public 
and  a  patriot  trust. 


III. 


CATHARINE  SCHUYLER. 

THE  name  of  Philip  Schuyler  adds  another  to  the 
list  of  distinguished  men  indebted  largely  to  maternal 
guidance.  To  his  mother,  a  woman  of  strong  and  culti 
vated  mind,  he  owed  his  early  education  and  habits  of 
business,  with  that  steadfast  integrity,  which  never 
faltered  nor  forsook  him.  His  wife — the  beloved  com 
panion  of  his  maturer  years — cherished  his  social  virtues 
and  added  lustre  to  his  fame.  Those  who  shared  his 
generous  hospitality,  or  felt  the  charm  of  his  polished 
manners,  were  ready  to  testify  to  the  excellence  of  her 
whose  gentle  influence  was  always  apparent.  A  brief 
notice  of  her  is  all  that  can  here  be  offered. 

Catharine  Schuyler  was  the  only  daughter  of  John 
Van  Rensselaer,  called  Patroon  of  Greenbush,  a  patriot 
in  the  Revolutionary  struggle,  and  noted  for  his  hospitali 
ty,  and  for  his  kindness  and  forbearance  towards  the 
tenants  of  his  vast  estates  during  the  war.  It  cannot 
be  doubted  that  the  recent  anti-rent  struggles,  which 
have  almost  convulsed  the  State  of  New  York,  can  be 
traced  to  the  amiable  but  injudicious  indulgence  of  this 
great  landholder  and  his  immediate  heirs. 

The  qualities  which  in  some  cases 'shone  in  remarka- 
3* 


58  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

ble  acts,  were  constantly  exercised  by  Mrs.  Schuyler  in 
the  domestic  sphere.  At  the  head  of  a  large  family, 
her  management  was  so  perfect  that  the  regularity  with 
which  all  went  on  appeared  spontaneous.  Her  life  was 
devoted  to  the  care  of  her  children  ;  yet  her  friendships 
were  warm  and  constant,  and  she  found  time  for  dis 
pensing  charities  to  the  poor.  Many  families  in  poverty 
remember  with  gratitude  the  aid  received  from  her; 
sometimes  in  the  shape  of  a  milch  cow,  or  other  article 
of  use.  She  possessed  great  self-control,  and  as  the 
mistress  of  a  household,  her  prudence  was  blended  with 
unvarying  kindness.  Her  chief  pleasure  was  in  diffus 
ing  happiness  in  her  home. 

The  house  in  which  the  family  resided,  near  Albany, 
was  built  by  Mrs.  Schuyler,  while  her  husband  was  in 
England,  in  1760  and  1761.  It  had,  probably,  been 
commenced  previously.  The  ancient  family  mansion, 
large  and  highly  ornamented  in  the  Dutch  taste,  stood 
on  the  corner  of  State  and  Washington  streets,  in  the 
city.  It  was  taken  down  about  the  year  1800.  It  was 
a  place  of  resort  for  British  officers  and  travellers  of 
note  in  the  French  war.  Fourteen  French  gentlemen, 
some  of  them  officers  who  had  been  captured  in  1758, 
were  here  entertained  as  prisoners  on  parole.  They 
found  it  most  agreeable  to  be  in  Schuyler's  house,  as 
he  could  converse  with  them  in  French ;  and  his  kind 
ness  made  them  friends.  In  1801,  when  Mrs.  Schuyler, 
and  some  of  her  family  visited  Montreal  and  Quebec, 
they  were  received  with  grateful  attention  by  the  de 
scendants  of  those  gentlemen. 


CATHARINE    SCHUYLER.  59 

Near  Saratoga,  the  scene  of  General  Schuyler's  tri 
umph,  he  had  an  elegant  country-seat,  which  was  de 
stroyed  by  General  Burgoyne.  It  was  one  of  the  most 
picturesque  incidents  of  the  war,  that  the  captive  Brit 
ish  general  with  his  suite,  should  be  received  and  enter 
tained,  after  the  surrender  at  Saratoga,  by  those  whose 
property  he  had  wantonly  laid  waste.  The  courtesy 
and  kindness  shown  by  General  and  Mrs.  Schuyler  to 
the  late  enemy,  and  their  generous  forgetfulness  of  their 
own  losses,  were  sensibly  felt  and  acknowledged.  Ma 
dame  de  Riedesel  says  their  reception  was  not  like  that 
of  enemies,  but  of  intimate  friends.  "All  their  actions 
proved,  that  at  sight  of  the  misfortunes  of  others,  they 
quickly  forgot  their  own."  This  delicacy  and  gene 
rosity  drew  from  Burgoyne  the  observation  to  General 
Schuyler,  "  You  are  too  kind  to  me,  who  have  done  so 
much  injury  to  you."  The  reply  was  characteristic  of 
the  noble-hearted  victor  :  "  Such  is  the  fate  of  war  ;  let 
us  not  dwell  on  the  subject." 

The  Marquis  de  Chastellux  mentions,  that  just  pre 
vious  to  this  visit,  General  Schuyler  being  detained  at 
Saratoga,  where  he  had  seen  the  ruins  of  his  beautiful 
villa,  wrote  thence  to  his  wife  to  make  every  prepara 
tion  for  giving  the  best  reception  to  Burgoyne  and  his 
suite.  "  The  British  commander  was  well  received  by 
Mrs.  Schuyler,  and  lodged  in  the  best  apartment  in  the 
house.  An  excellent  supper  was  served  him  in  the 
evening,  the  honors  of  which  were  done  with  so  much 
grace,  that  he  was  affected  even  to  tears,  and  said,  with 
a  deep  sigh,  '  Indeed,  this  is  doing  too  much  for  the 


60  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

man  who  has  ravaged  their  lands,  and  burned  their 
dwellings.'  The  next  morning  he  was  reminded  of  his 
misfortunes  by  an  incident  that  would  have  amused 
any  one  else.  His  bed  was  prepared  in  a  large  room  ; 
but  as  he  had  a  numerous  suite,  or  family,  several  mat 
tresses  were  spread  on  the  floor  for  some  officers  to 
sleep  near  him.  Schuyler's  second  son,  a  little  fellow 
about  seven  years  old,  very  arch  and  forward,  but  very 
amiable,  was  running  all  the  morning  about  the  house. 
Opening  the  door  of  the  saloon,  he  burst  out  a  laughing 
on  seeing  all  the  English  collected,  and  shut  it  after 
him,  exclaiming,  '  You  are  all  my  prisoners !'  This  in 
nocent  cruelty  rendered  them  more  melancholy  than 
before/' 

Thus  were  even  the  miseries  of  war  softened  by  Mrs. 
Schuyler's  graceful  courtesy;  while  the  military  renown 
won  by  her  husband's  illustrious  services,  was  associ 
ated  with  remembrances  of  disinterested  kindness  be 
stowed  in  requital  for  injury.  In  reverse,  her  resolution 
and  courage  had  been  proved  equal  to  the  emergency. 
When  the  continental  army  was  retreating  from  Fort 
Edward  before  Burgoyne,  Mrs.  Schuyler  went  up  her 
self,  in  her  chariot  from  Albany  to  Saratoga,  to  see  to 
the  removal  of  her  furniture.  While  there,  she  received 
directions  from  the  General,  to  set  fire,  with  her  own 
hand,  to  his  extensive  fields  of  wheat,  and  to  request 
his  tenants,  and  others,  to  do  the  same,  rather  than 
suffer  them  to  be  reaped  by  the  enemy.  The  injunc 
tion  shows  the  soldier's  confidence  in  her  spirit,  firm 
ness,  and  patriotism. 


CATHARINE    SCHUYLER.  61 

Many  of  the  women  of  this  family  appear  to  have 
been  remarkable  for  strong  intellect  and  clear  judgment. 
The  Mrs.  Schuyler  described  in  Mrs.  Grant's  memoirs, 
was  a  venerated  relative  of  the  General.  He  lost  his 
admirable  wife  in  1803.  Her  departure  left  his  last 
years  desolate,  and  saddened  many  hearts  in  which  yet 
lives  the  memory  of  her  bright  virtues.  One  of  her 
daughters,  Mrs.  Alexander  Hamilton,  now  resides  in 
Washington.  D.  C.}  and  another  at  Oswego. 


IV. 


CATHARINE    GREENE. 

CATHARINE  LITTLEFIELD,  the  eldest  daughter  of  John 
Littlefield  and  Phebe  Ray,  was  born  in  New  Shoreham, 
on  Block  Island,  1753.  When  very  young,  she  came 
with  her  sister  to  reside  in  the  family  of  Governor 
Greene,  of  Warwick,  a  lineal  descendant  of  the  founder 
of  the  family,  whose  wife  was  her  aunt.  The  house  in 
which  they  lived,  twelve  or  fourteen  miles  south  of 
Providence,  is  still  standing.  It  is  situated  on  a  hill, 
which  commands  a  view  of  the  whole  of  NarragansettBay, 
with  its  islands.  Mount  Hope,  associated  with  King 
Philip,  and  the  Indian  traditions,  fills  the  back-ground, 
rising  slightly  above  the  line  of  the  horizon.  It  was 
here  that  Miss  Littlefield's  happy  girlhood  was  passed ; 
and  it  was  here  also  that  she  first  knew  Nathanael 
Greene.  She  often  went  on  a  visit  to  her  family  at 
Block  Island.  Nathanael  would  come  there  to  see  her ; 
and  the  time  was  spent  by  the  young  people  in  amuse 
ments,  particularly  in  riding  and  dancing,  of  which  the 
future  general  was  remarkably  fond,  notwithstanding 


CATHARINE    GREENE.  63 

his  father's  efforts  to  whip  out  of  him  such  idle  propen 
sities.  He  was  not  discouraged  by  the  example  of  his 
fair  companion  from  any  of  these  outbreaks  of  youth 
ful  gaiety ;  for  the  tradition  of  the  country  around,  and 
the  recollections  of  all  who  knew  her,  testify  that  there 
never  lived  a  more  joyous,  frolicsome  creature  than 
"  Kate  Littlefield."  In  person,  she  was  singularly  lovely. 
Her  figure  was  of  the  medium  height,  and  light  and 
graceful  at  this  period,  though  in  after  years  she  was  in 
clined  to  embonpoint.  Her  eyes  were  gray,  and  her  com 
plexion  fair;  her  features  regular  and  animated.  The 
facilities  for  female  education  being  very  limited  at  that 
period,  Miss  Littlefield  enjoyed  few  advantages  of  early 
cultivation.  She  was  not  particularly  fond  of  study, 
though  she  read  the  books  that  came  in  her  way,  and  pro 
fited  by  what  she  read.  She  possessed,  moreover,  a  mar 
vellous  quickness  of  perception,  and  the  faculty  of  com 
prehending  a  subject  with  surprising  readiness.  Thus 
in  conversation,  she  seemed  to  appreciate  every  thing 
said  on  almost  any  topic  ;  and  frequently  would  as 
tonish  others  by  the  ease  with  which  her  mind  took 
hold  of  the  ideas  presented.  She  was  at  all  times  an 
intelligent  listener.  On  one  occasion,  when  the  con 
versation  turned  on  botany,  she  looked  over  the  books 
and  collection  of  a  Swedish  botanist,  making  remarks 
from  time  to  time  which  much  interested  him,  and 
showed  her  an  observer  of  no  common  intelligence. 
This  extraordinary  activity  of  mind,  and  tact  in  seizing 
on  points,  so  as  to  apprehend  almost  intuitively,  distin- 


64  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

guished  her  through  life.  It  enabled  her,  without  ap 
parent  mental  effort,  to  apply  the  instruction  conveyed 
in  the  books  she  read,  to  the  practical  affairs  of  life, 
and  to  enrich  her  varied  conversation  with  the  know 
ledge  gained  from  them,  and  her  observation  of  the 
world.  This  power  of  rendering  available  her  intellec 
tual  stores,  combined  with  a  retentive  memory,  a  lively 
imagination,  and  great  fluency  in  speech,  rendered  her 
one  of  the  most  brilliant  and  entertaining  of  women. 
When  to  these  gifts  was  added  the  charm  of  rare 
beauty,  it  cannot  excite  wonder  that  the  possessor  of 
such  attractions  should  fascinate  all  who  approached 
her. 

How,  when,  or  by  what  course  of  wooing,  the  youth 
ful  lover  won  the  bright,  volatile,  coquettish  maiden, 
cannot  be  ascertained  ;  but  it  is  probable  their  attach 
ment  grew  in  the  approving  eyes  of  their  relatives,  and 
met  with  no  obstacle  till  sealed  by  the  matrimonial  vow. 
The  marriage  took  place  July  20th,  1774,  and  the 
young  couple  removed  to  Coventry.  Little,  it  is  likely, 
did  the  fair  Catharine  dream  of  her  future  destiny  as  a 
soldier's  wife;  or  that  the  broad-brimmed  hat  of  her 
young  husband  covered  brows  that  should  one  day  be 
wreathed  with  the  living  laurels  won  by  genius  and  pa 
triotism.  We  have  no  means  of  knowing  with  how 
much  interest  she  watched  the  over-clouding  of  the 
political  horizon,  or  the  dire  advance  of  the  necessity 
that  drove  the  Colonies  to  armed  resistance.  But  when 
her  husband's  decision  was  made,  and  he  stood  forth  a 
determined  patriot,  separating  himself  from  the  commu- 


CATHARINE    GREENE.  65 

nity  in  which  he  had  been  born  and  reared,  by  embrac 
ing  a  military  profession,  his  spirited  wife  did  her  part 
to  aid  and  encourage  him.  The  papers  of  the  day  fre 
quently  notice  her  presence,  among  other  ladies,  at  head 
quarters.  Like  Mrs.Washington,  she  passed  the  active 
season  of  the  campaign  at  home.  Hers  was  a  new  es 
tablishment  at  Coventry,  a  village  in  Rhode  Island, 
where  her  husband  had  erected  a  forge,  and  built  himself 
what  then  passed  for  a  princely  house  on  the  banks  of 
one  of  those  small  streams  which  form  so  beautiful  a 
feature  in  Rhode  Island  scenery.  When  the  army  be 
fore  Boston  was  innoculated  for  the  small  pox,  she  gave 
up  her  house  for  a  hospital.  She  was  there  during  the 
attack  on  Rhode  Island ;  and  every  cannon  on  the  hard 
fought  day  wrhich  closed  that  memorable  enterprise, 
must  have  awakened  the  echoes  of  those  quiet  hills. 
When  the  army  went  into  winter  quarters,  she  always 
set  out  to  rejoin  her  husband,  sharing  cheerfully  the  nar 
row  quarters  and  hard  fare  of  a  camp.  She  partook  of 
the  privations  of  the  dreary  winter  at  Valley  Forge,  in 
that  "darkest  hour  of  the  Revolution;"  and  it  appears 
that,  as  at  home,  her  gay  spirit  shed  light  around  her 
even  in  such  scenes,  softening  and  enlivening  the  gloom 
which  might  have  weighed  many  a  bold  heart  into 
despondency.  There  are  extant  some  interesting  little 
notes  of  Kosciusko,  in  very  imperfect  English,  which 
show  her  kindness  to  her  husband's  friends,  and  the 
pleasure  she  took  in  alleviating  their  sufferings. 

How  much  her  society  was  prized  by  General  Greene, 
and  how  impatiently  he  bore  separation  from  her,  may 


66  WOMEN    OP    THE    REVOLUTION. 

be  seen  in  his  letters.*  When  about  to  start  for  the 
South,  in  October,  1780,  he  waits  for  her  arrival  to  join 
him,  expecting  she  will  overtake  him  at  camp,  or  in 
Philadelphia;  and  expresses  the  greatest  anxiety  that 
she  should  avoid  the  dangerous  route  by  Peekskill. 
His  fears  for  her  safety  at  last  impel  him  to  request  her 
not  to  encounter  the  risk.  Mr.  Hughes,  who  knows 
the  feelings  of  the  anxious  wife,  detains  the  letters :  and 
afterwards,  confessing  the  unwarrantable  liberty — for 
which  he  "  deserved  to  appear  before  a  court-martial" — 
says :  "  But  if  I  do,  I  will  plead  Mrs.  General  Greene." 
Again  he  writes :  "  Give  me  leave  to  say  that  your  lady, 
if  possible,  without  injury  to  herself,  must  see  you.  My 
God!  she  will  suffer  a  thousand  times  as  much  by  a 
disappointment,  as  she  can  by  going  ten  times  the 
distance !" 

Notwithstanding  her  ardent  wish  to  accompany  the 
General,  it  seems  that  Mrs.  Greene  was  prevented  from 
doing  so.  Mrs.  Washington  writes  to  her  from  Mount 
Vernon,  to  say  that  General  Greene  was  well,  and 
had  spent  the  evening  at  Mount  Vernon,  on  his  way 
to  Richmond.  General  Weedon,  in  a  letter  to  her, 
announces  that  the  General  had  stopped  for  the  night 
at  his  house  in  Richmond ;  and  invites  Mrs.  Greene, 
if  she  should  come  as  far  as  Virginia,  to  quarter 
under  his  roof.  A  letter  from  the  Commander-in-chief, 
written  from  New  Windsor  on  the  15th  of  December, 

*  The  letters  quoted  or  referred  to  in  this  sketch  are  from  the  MS. 
correspondence  of  General  Greene,  in  the  possession  of  his  grandson, 
Prof.  George  W.  Greene,  of  Providence,  R.  I.,  late  Consul  at  Rome. 


CATHARINE    GREENE.  67 

encloses  Mrs.  Greene  a  letter  from  her  husband,  and 
offers  to  forward  hers. 

"  Mrs.  Washington,"  he  says,  "  who  is  just  arrived  at 
these  my  quarters,  joins  me  in  most  cordial  wishes  for 
your  every  felicity,  and  regrets  the  want  of  your  com 
pany.  Remember  me  to  my  namesake.  Nat,  I  sup 
pose,  can  handle  a  musket." 

The  "  namesake"  alluded  to,  was  the  eldest  son,  who 
was  afterwards  drowned  in  the  Savannah  River.  His 
mother  never  recovered  her  spirits  after  this  shock. 

Mrs.  Greene  joined  her  husband  in  the  South  after 
the  close  of  the  active  campaign  of  1781,  and  remained 
with  him  till  the  end  of  the  war,  residing  on  the  islands 
during  the  heats  of  summer,  and  the  rest  of  the  time  at 
head-quarters.  In  the  spring  of  1783,  she  returned  to 
the  North  where  she  remained  till  the  General  had  com 
pleted  his  arrangements  for  removing  to  the  South. 
They  then  established  themselves  at  Mulberry  Grove, 
on  a  plantation  which  had  been  presented  to  Greene  by 
the  State  of  Georgia. 

Mrs.  Greene's  first  impressions  of  southern  life  and 
manners  are  painted  in  lively  colors  in  her  letters  to 
northern  friends.  The  following  passage  is  from  one  to 
Miss  Flagg  : — 

"  If  you  expect  to  be  an  inhabitant  of  this  country, 
you  must  not  think  to  sit  down  with  your  netting  pins ; 
but  on  the  contrary,  employ  half  your  time  at  the  toilet, 
one  quarter  to  paying  and  receiving  visits ;  the  other 
quarter  to  scolding  servants,  with  a  hard  thump  every 
now  and  then  over  the  head  ;  or  singing,  dancing,  read- 


68  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

ing,  writing,  or  saying  your  prayers.  The  latter  is  here 
quite  a  phenomenon ;  but  you  need  not  tell  how  you 
employ  your  time." 

The  letters  of  General  Greene  to  his  wife  breathe  the 
most  entire  confidence  and  affection.  His  respect  for 
her  judgment  and  good  sense  is  shown  in  the  freedom 
with  which  he  expresses  his  thoughts  and  unfolds  his 
hopes  and  plans.  He  evidently  looked  to  her  for  sup 
port  and  sympathy  in  all  his  cares  and  troubles.  His 
lighter  hours,  even  in  absence,  were  shared  with  her. 
Sometimes  his  youthful  gaiety  breaks  forth  in  his  de 
scriptions  of  adventures  and  persons  encountered  in  his 
travels.  And  regard  for  his  interests  was  plainly  above 
every  other  thought  in  the  mind  of  his  wife.  After  his 
death,  she  writes  to  Mr.  Wadsworth,  his  executor,  Sep 
tember  19th,  1788,  u  I  consider 

debts  of  honor,  and  would  starve,  rather  than  they 
should  not  be  paid/' "I  am  a  woman — unaccus 
tomed  to  any  thing  but  the  trifling  business  of  a  family ; 
yet  my  exertions  may  effect  something.  If  they  do  not, 
and  if  I  [sacrifice]  my  life  in  the  cause  of  my  children, 
I  shall  but  do  my  duty,  -and  follow  the  example  of  my 
illustrious  husband." 

It  was  while  on  a  visit  to  Savannah  with  his  wife, 
that  General  Greene  was  seized  with  the  disease  which 
in  a  few  days  closed  his  brilliant  career.  They  were 
then  preparing  to  return  and  pass  the  summer  at  the 
North.  The  weight  of  care  that  fell  on  Mrs.  Greene  in 
consequence  of  this  event,  would  have  crushed  an  or 
dinary  mind;  but  she  struggled  nobly  through  it  all. 


CATHARINE    GREENE.  69 

Some  years  afterwards,  thinking  that  some  lands  she 
owned  on  Cumberland  Island  offered  greater  advantages 
than  Mulberry  Grove,  she  removed  there  with  her 
family;  dividing  her  time  between  her  household  duties 
and  the  cares  of  an  extensive  hospitality;  occasionally 
visiting  the  North  in  the  summer,  but  continuing  to  look 
upon  the  South  as  her  home.  It  was  while  she  lived  at 
Mulberry  Grove,  that  she  became  instrumental  in  intro 
ducing  to  the  world  an  invention  which  has  covered 
with  wealth  the  fields  of  the  South. 

Late  in  1792,  her  sympathies  were  enlisted  in  behalf 
of  a  young  man,  a  native  of  Massachusetts,  who  having 
come  to  Georgia  to  take  the  place  of  private  teacher  in 
a  gentleman's  family,  had  been  disappointed  in  obtain 
ing  the  situation,  and  found  himself  without  friends  or 
resources  in  a  strange  land.  Mrs.  Greene  and  her  fami 
ly  treated  him  with  great  kindness.  He  was  invited  to 
make  his  home  in  her  house  while  he  pursued  the  study  of 
the  law,  to  which  he  had  determined  to  devote  himself. 
According  to  the  account  of  some,  his  attention  was  at 
tracted  to  the  cotton  plant  growing  in  the  garden,  and 
to  Mr.  Miller's  observation  that  cotton  of  that  sort  could 
be  cultivated  as  a  staple,  provided  some  method  could 
be  found  of  cleaning  it  from  the  seed.  According  to 
others,  a  party  of  gentlemen  on  a  visit  to  the  family, 
spoke  of  the  want  of  an  effective  machine  for  separating 
the  cotton  from  the  seed,  without  which,  it  was  allowed, 
there  could  be  no  profitable  cultivation  of  this  more  pro 
ductive  species.  Mrs.  Greene  spoke  of  the  mechanical 
genius  of  her  young  protege ;  introduced  him  to  the 


70  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

company,  and  showed  little  specimens  of  his  skill,  in  tam 
bour  frames  and  articles  for  the  children.  Eli  Whitney, 
for  that  was  the  name  of  the  young  student,  was  strong 
ly  impressed  with  the  conversation.  He  examined  the 
cotton,  and  communicated  his  plans  to  Mrs.  Greene  and 
Mr.  Miller,  who  gave  him  warm  encouragement.  A 
basement  room,  into  which  no  one  else  was  admitted, 
was  appropriated  for  his  work.  He  labored  day  after 
day,  making  the  necessary  tools ;  and  persevering  with 
unwearied  industry.  By  spring  the  COTTON  GIN  was 
completed,  and  exhibited  to  the  wonder  and  delight  of 
planters  invited  from  different  parts  of  Georgia  to  wit 
ness  its  successful  operation. 

Mr.  Phineas  Miller  entered  into  an  agreement  with 
Whitney,  to  bear  the  expense  of  maturing  the  invention, 
and  to  divide  the  future  profits.  He  was  a  man  of  re 
markably  active  and  cultivated  mind.  Mrs.  Greene 
married  him  some  time  after  the  death  of  General 
Greene.  She  survived  him  several  years — dying  just 
before  the  close  of  the  late  war  with  England.  Her  re 
mains  rest  in  the  family  burial-ground  at  Cumberland 
Island,  where  but  a  few  years  afterwards,  the  body  of 
one  of  her  husband's  best  officers  and  warmest  friends 
— the  gallant  Lee — was  brought  to  moulder  by  her  side. 
She  left  four  children  by  her  first  marriage — three 
daughters  and  one  son — of  whom  the  son  and  second 
daughter  are  still  living. 

Mrs.  Miller  related  to  a  lady  residing  in  New 
York,  the  incident  of  Colonel  Aaron  Burr's  requesting 
permission  to  stop  at  her  house,  when  he  came  South, 


CATHARINE    GREENE.  71 

after  his  fatal  duel  with  General  Hamilton.  She  would 
not  refuse  the  demand  upon  her  hospitality,  but  his  vic 
tim  had  been  her  friend ;  and  she  could  not  receive  as  a 
guest,  one  whose  hands  were  crimsoned  with  his  blood. 
She  gave  Burr  permission  to  remain  ;  but  at  the  same  time 
ordered  her  carriage,  and  quitted  her  house ;  returning 
as  soon  as  he  had  taken  his  departure.  This,  little 
anecdote  is  strongly  illustrative  of  her  impulsive  and 
generous  character.  The  lady  who  mentioned  it  to  me 
had  herself  experienced,  in  time  of  the  illness  of  one  dear 
to  her,  Mrs.  Miller's  sympathy  and  active  kindness  ;  and 
described  her  manners  as  gentle,  frank  and  winning. 
Her  praise,  were  I  at  liberty  to  mention  her  name, 
would  do  the  highest  honor  to  its  object. 

The  descendants  of  Mrs.  Greene  regard  her  with  af 
fectionate  reverence.  She  was  a  loved  and  honored 
wife,  and  a  tender  yet  judicious  mother.  Her  discipline 
was  remarkably  strict,  and  none  of  her  children  ever 
thought  of  disobeying  her.  Yet  she  would  sometimes 
join  with  child-like  merriment  in  their  sports.  A  lady 
now  living  in  Providence  states,  that  one  day,  after  the 
close  of  the  war,  passing  General  Greene's  house  in 
Newport,  she  saw  both  him  and  his  wife  playing  "puss 
in  the  corner,"  with  the  children. 

She  loved  a  jest,  and  sometimes  too,  a  hearty  laugh 
upon  her  friends.  On  one  occasion,  while  living  at 
Newport  after  the  close  of  the  war,  she  disguised  her 
self  like  an  old  beggar-woman,  so  effectually  that  she 
was  not  recognized  even  by  her  brother-in-law.  In  this 
dress  she  went  round  to  the  houses  of  her  friends  to  ask 


72  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

charity — telling  a  piteous  tale  of  losses  and  sufferings. 
At  one  house  they  were  at  the  card-table  ;  and  one  of 
her  most  intimate  friends,  as  she  ordered  her  off,  desired 
the  servant  to  look  well  as  she  went  out  and  see  that  she 
did  not  steal  something  from  the  entry.  At  another, 
the  master  of  the  house  was  just  sitting  down  to  supper; 
and  though  an  old  acquaintance  and  a  shrewd  man,  was 
not  only  deceived,  but  so  moved  by  her  story,  that  he 
gave  her  the  loaf  he  was  on  the  point  of  cutting  for  him 
self.  When  she  had  sufficiently  amused  herself  with 
this  practical  test  of  her  friends'  charity,  she  took  off  her 
disguise,  and  indulged  her  merriment  at  their  expense ; 
reminding  them  that  with  the  exception  of  the  loaf,  she 
had  been  turned  away  without  any  experience  of  their 
liberality. 

Mrs.  Greene's  power  of  fascination,  described  as  ab 
solutely  irresistible,  may  be  illustrated  by  a  little  anec 
dote.  A  lady,  who  is  still  living,  had  heard  much  of 
her,  and  resolved — as  young  ladies  sometimes  will  when 
they  hear  too  much  about  a  person — that  she  would  not 
like  her.  One  day  she  chanced  to  be  on  a  visit  at  the 
late  Colonel  Ward's  in  New  York,  where  she  saw  a 
lady — dressed  completely  in  black,  even  to  the  head 
dress,  which  was  drawn  close  under  the  throat — who 
from  her  seat  on  the  sofa  was  holding  the  whole  com 
pany  in  breathless  attention  to  the  lively  anecdotes  of 
the  war,  and  the  brilliant  sketches  of  character,  which 
she  was  drawing  so  skillfully  and  in  a  tone  so  winning, 
that  it  was  impossible  not  to  listen  to  her.  Still  the 
young  girl's  resolution  was  not  shaken.  She  might  be 


CATHARINE    GREENE.  73 

compelled  to  admire,  but  the  liking  depended  on  herself; 
and  she  took  a  seat  at  the  opposite  side  of  the  room. 
How  long  she  remained  there  she  was  never  able  to  tell ; 
but  her  first  consciousness  was  of  being  seated  on  a 
stool  at  the  old  lady's  feet,  leaning  upon  her  knee,  and 
looking  up  in  her  face  as  confidingly  as  if  she  had  been 
her  own  mother. 


V. 


MERCY   WARREN. 

THE  name  of  Mercy  Warren  belongs  to  American 
history.  In  the  influence  she  exercised,  she  was  perhaps 
the  most  remarkable  woman  who  lived  at  the  Revolu 
tionary  period.  She  was  the  third  child  of  Colonel 
James  Otis,  of  Barnstable,  in  the  old  colony  of  Plymouth; 
and  was  born  there,  September  25th,  1728.*  The  Otis 
family  came  to  the  country  in  1630  or  1640,  and  settled 
first  in  Hingham. 

The  youth  of  Miss  Otis  was  passed  in  the  retirement 
of  her  home,  in  a  routine  of  domestic  employments,  and 
the  duties  devolving  upon  her  as  the  eldest  daughter  in 
a  family  of  high  respectability.  Her  love  of  reading 
was  early  manifested  ;  and  such  was  her  economy  of 
time,  that,  never  neglecting  her  domestic  cares  or  the 
duties  of  hospitality,  she  found  leisure  not  only  to 
improve  her  mind  by  careful  study,  but  for  various 
works  of  female  ingenuity.  A  card-table  is  preserved 
by  one  of  her  descendants  in  Quincy,  as  a  monument 
of  her  taste  and  industry.  The  design  was  her  own, 

*  This  date,  with  that  of  her  death,  is  taken  from  the  entries  in 
the  family  Bible  at  Plymouth. 


MERCY    WARREN.  75 

the  patterns  being  obtained  by  gathering  and  pressing 
flowers  from  the  gardens  and  fields.  These  are  copied 
in  worsted  work,  and  form  one  of  the  most  curious  and 
beautiful  specimens  to  be  found  in  the  country. 
*  At  that  period,  the  opportunities  for  female  education 
were  extremely  limited,  but  perhaps  the  more  prized  on 
that  account.  Miss  Otis  gained  nothing  from  schools. 
Her  only  assistant,  in  the  intellectual  culture  of  her 
earlier  years,  was  the  Rev.  Jonathan  Russell,  the  minis 
ter  of  the  parish,  from  whose  library  she  was  supplied 
with  books,  and  by  whose  counsels  her  tastes  were  in  a 
measure  formed.  It  was  from  reading,  in  accordance 
with  his  advice,  Raleigh's  "  History  of  the  World,"  that 
her  attention  was  particularly  directed  to  history,  the 
branch  of  literature  to  which  she  afterwards  devoted 
herself.  In  later  years,  her  brother  James,  who  was 
himself  an  excellent  scholar,  became  her  adviser  and 
companion  in  literary  pursuits.  There  existed  between 
them  a  strong  attachment,  which  nothing  ever  impaired. 
Even  in  the  wildest  moods  of  that  insanity,  with  which, 
late  in  life  the  great  patriot  was  afflicted,  her  voice  had 
power  to  calm  him,  when  all  else  was  without  effect. 

These  favorite  employments  of  reading,  drawing  and 
needle  work,  formed  the  recreation  of  a  quiet  life,  in  the 
home  which  Miss  Otis  rarely  quitted.  A  visit  to 
Boston,  at  the  time  of  her  brother's  graduation  at  Har 
vard  College,  in  1743,  was  the  occasion  of  her  first 
absence  for  any  length  of  time. 

When  about  twenty-six,  she  became  the  wife  of 
James  Warren,  then  a  merchant  of  Plymouth,  Massa- 


76  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

chusetts.  In  him  she  found  a  partner  of  congenial  mind. 
Her  new  avocations  and  cares  were  not  allowed  to 
impair  the  love  of  literature  which  had  been  the  delight 
of  her  youth.  It  was  while  residing  occasionally  for  a 
few  weeks  with  her  husband  and  children  on  a  farm 
a  few  miles  from  the  village,  to  which  she  gave  the 
name  of  "  Clifford,"  that  most  of  her  poetical  produc 
tions  were  written.  On  the  other  hand,  attached  as 
she  was  to  these  pursuits,  she  never  permitted  them  to 
interfere  with  household  duties,  or  the  attention  of  a 
devoted  mother  to  her  children.  Her  attainments  fitted 
her  to  give  them  valuable  instruction ;  and  the  lessons 
of  her  loving  spirit  of  wisdom  were  not  lost. 

With  this  fondness  for  historical  studies,  and  the 
companionship  of  such  a  brother  and  husband,  it  is  not 
strange  that  the  active  and  powerful  intellect  of  Mrs. 
Warren  should  become  engaged  with  interest  in  political 
affairs.  These  were  now  assuming  an  aspect  that 
engrossed  universal  attention.  Decision  and  action 
were  called  for  on  the  part  of  those  inclined  to  one  or 
the  other  side.  How  warmly  Mrs.  Warren  espoused 
the  cause  of  her  country — how  deeply  her  feelings  were 
enlisted — appears  in  her  letters.  Her  correspondence 
with  the  great  spirits  of  that  era,  if  published,  would 
form  a  most  valuable  contribution  to  our  historical 
literature.  This  rich  correspondence  has  been  preserved 
by  her  descendants  ;  and  affords  the  material  for  the 
present  memoir,  jit  includes  letters,  besides  those  from 
members  of  her  own  family,  from  Samuel  and  John 
Adams,  Jefferson,  Dickinson,  Gerry,  Knox  and  others 


MERCY    WARREN.  77 

These  men  asked  her  opinion  in  political  matters,  and 
acknowledged  the  excellence  of  her  judgment.  Refer 
ring  to  some  of  her  observations  on  the  critical  state  of 
affairs  after  the  war,  General  Knox  writes  : — "  I  should 
be  happy,  Madam,  to  receive  your  communications 
from  time  to  time,  particularly  on  the  subject  enlarged 
on  in  this  letter.  Your  sentiments  shall  remain  with 
me."  Mrs.  Warren  herself  thus  writes  to  Mr.  Adams, 
before  the  meeting  of  the  first  Congress  : 

"  Though  you  have  condescended  to  ask  my  senti 
ments,  in  conjunction  with  those  of  a  gentleman 
qualified  both  by  his  judgment  and  integrity,  as  well  as 
his  attachment  to  the  interest  of  his  country,  to  advise 
at  this  important  crisis,  yet  I  shall  not  be  so  presump 
tuous  as  to  offer  any  thing  but  my  fervent  wishes  that 
the  enemies  of  America  may  hereafter  for  ever  tremble 
at  the  wisdom  and  firmness,  the  prudence  and  justice 
of  the  delegates  deputed  from  our  cities,  as  much  as  did 
the  Phocians  of  old  at  the  power  of  the  Amphyctions 
of  Greece.  But  if  the  Locrians  should  in  time  appear 
among  you,  I  advise  you  to  beware  of  choosing  an 
ambitious  Philip  as  your  leader.  Such  a  one  might 
subvert  the  principles  on  which  your  institution  is 
founded,  abolish  your  order,  and  build  up  a  monarchy 
on  the  ruins  of  the  happy  institution.* 

*  Letter,  July  14th,  1774.  All  the  extracts  from  letters  in  this 
memoir,  are  from  the  manuscript  correspondence  of  Mrs.  Warren,  in 
the  possession  of  her  daughter-in-law,  who  resides  at  Plymouth.  This 
lady  is  herself  a  descendant  of  Governor  Winslow,  whose  family  inter 
married  with  the  Warrens  in  the  fourth  and  sixth  generations.  One  of 
the  curiosities  of  her  parlor  is  an  easy  chair  belonging  to  Governor 


78  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

Colonial  difficulties,  and  the  signs  of  the  times,  formed 
subjects  of  communication  continually  between  Mrs. 
Warren  and  her  female  friends.  Mrs.  Adams  says  to 
her,  in  1773,  "  You,  madam,  are  so  sincere  a  lover  of 
your  country,  and  so  hearty  a  mourner  in  all  her  mis 
fortunes,  that  it  will  greatly  aggravate  your  anxiety  to 
hear  how  much  she  is  now  oppressed  and  insulted.  To 
you,  who  have  so  thoroughly  looked  through  the  deeds 
of  men,  and  developed  the  dark  designs  of  a  "Rapatio" 
soul,  no  action,  however  base  or  sordid,  no  measure, 
however  cruel  and  villanous.  will  be  matter  of  any  sur 
prise.  The  tea,  that  baneful  weed,  is  arrived  :  great, 
and  I  hope  effectual  opposition,  has  been  made  to  the 
landing." 

The  friendship  that  existed  between  these  two  gifted 
women  was  truly  beautiful  and  touching.  Commenced 
in  early  youth,  it  continued  unchanged  through  the 
vicissitudes  of  a  long  and  eventful  life — unshaken  by 
troubles,  unchilled  by  cares,  unalienated  by  misunder 
standing.  Their  thoughts  were  communicated  to  each 
other  with  perfect  freedom  and  openness  ;  and  they 
found  in  joy  and  sorrow,  a  solace,  or  an  added  pleasure, 
in  each  other's  sympathy  and  affection.  The  sister  of 
Abigail  Adams,  who  married  Mr.  Shaw,  was  also 
warmly  attached  to  Mrs.  Warren. 

Winslow,  which  was  brought  over  in  the  Mayflower.  The  iron 
staples  are  still  attached,  by  which  it  was  fastened  to  the  cabin  floor 
of  the  Pilgrim  ship  ;  and  its  present  covering  is  the  dress  of  white 
brocade  richly  embroidered,  worn  by  Mercy  Warren  on  the  clay  after 
her  marriage.  Some  of  the  ancient  china  also  remains  ;  several  pieces 
one  hundred  and  fifty  years  old,  are  of  surpassing  beauty. 


MERCY    WARREN.  79 

The  celebrated  Mrs.  Macauley  was  another  of  her 
favorite  correspondents,  though  they  were  not  person 
ally  acquainted  till  that  lady's  visit  to  New  England. 
Mrs.  Warren's  letters  to  her  describe  the  progress  of 
the  Revolutionary  spirit.  That  written  December  29th, 
1774,  speaks  forcibly  of  the  aspect  of  things  : 

"  America  stands  armed  with  resolution  and  virtue  ; 
but  she  still  recoils  at  the  idea  of  drawing  the  sword 
against  the  nation  from  whence  she  derived  her  origin. 
Yet  Britain,  like  an  unnatural  parent,  is  ready  to  plunge 
her  dagger  into  the  bosom  of  her  affectionate  offspring. 
But  may  we  not  yet  hope  for  more  lenient  measures ! 
You,  madam,  can  easily  delineate  the  characters  of  the 

r>ew  Parliament." 

%  #  #  #  * 

"  The  seeds  of  empire  are  sown  in  this  new  world  : 
the  ball  rolls  westward  fast,  and  though  we  are  daily 
threatened  with  the  depredations  of  Britain  with  foreign 
auxiliaries,  and  the  incursions  of  the  savages,  yet  each 
city,  from  Nova  Scotia  to  Georgia,  has  her  Decii  and 
her  Fabii,  ready  to  sacrifice  their  devoted  lives  to  pre 
serve  inviolate,  and  to  convey  to  their  children  the  inhe 
rent  rights  of  men,  conferred  on  all  by  the  God  of 
nature,  and  the  privileges  of  Englishmen  claimed  by 
Americans  from  the  sacred  sanction  of  compacts." 

In  the  following  year  she  writes : 

"  I  hinted  that  the   sword  was  half  drawn  from  the 
scabbard.     Since  that  it  has  been  unsheathed.     *     * 
Almost  every  tongue  is  calling  on  the  justice  of  heaven 


80  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

to  punish  or  disperse  the  disturbers  of  the  peace,  liberty, 
and  happiness  of  their  country." 

She  says  to  John  Adams  : 

"  I  have  my  fears.  Yet,  notwithstanding  the  com 
plicated  difficulties  that  rise  before  us,  there  is  no 
receding;  and  I  should  blush  if  in  any  instance  the 
weak  passions  of  my  sex  should  damp  the  fortitude, 
the  patriotism,  and  the  manly  resolution  of  yours.  May 
nothing  ever  check  that  glorious  spirit  of  freedom  which 
inspires  the  patriot  in  the  cabinet,  and  the  hero  in  the 
field,  with  courage  to  maintain  their  righteous  cause,  and 
to  endeavor  to  transmit  the  claim  to  posterity,  even  if 
they  must  seal  the  rich  conveyance  to  their  children 
with  their  own  blood."* 

***** 

"  The  desk,  the  pews,  and  other  incumbrances  are 
taken  down  in  the  Old  South  (a  church  long  venerated 
in  the  town),  to  make  it  convenient  for  the  accommo 
dation  of  General  Burgoyne's  light  horse ;  while  the 
infamous  Dr.  Morrison,  whose  character  I  suppose  you 
are  acquainted  with,  reads  prayers  in  the  church  in 
Brattle  street  to  a  set  of  banditti,  who,  after  the  rapines, 
robberies,  and  devastations  of  the  week,  dare — some  of 
them — to  lift  up  their  sacrilegious  hands,  and  bow  before 
the  altar  of  mercy. 

*  "I  will  breathe  one  wish  more  ;  and  that  is 
for  the  restoration  of  peace — peace,  I  mean,  on  equit 
able  terms  ;  for  pusillanimous  and  feeble  as  I  am,  I  can- 

*  Letter,  August  2d,  1775. 


MERCY    WARREN.  81 

rcot  wish  to  see  the  sword  quietly  put  up  in  the  scabbard, 
until  justice  is  done  to  America."* 

During  the  years  that  preceded  the  Revolution,  and 
after  its  outbreak,  Mrs.  Warren's  house  appears  to  have 
been  the  resort  of  much  company.  As  she  herself 
says,  "by  the  Plymouth  fireside  were  many  political 
plans  originated,  discussed,  and  digested."  She  re 
minds  Mr.  Adams  while  he  is  in  Europe,  of  his  words 
once  uttered  in  a  moment  of  despondency,  that  "  the 
dispute  between  Great  Britain  and  America  will  not  be 
settled  till  your  sons  and  my  sons  are  able  to  assist  and 
negotiate  with  the  different  European  courts." — "  A 
ludy  replied,  though  perhaps  not  from  prescience,  but 
from  presentiment  or  presumption,  that  you  must  do  it 
yourself;  that  the  work  must  be  done  immediately; 
and  that  she  expected  from  you  in  the  intervals  of  busi 
ness,  a  pleasing  narration  of  the  different  customs,  man 
ners,  taste,  genius,  and  policy  of  nations  with  whom,  at 
present,  \ve  were  little  acquainted.  You  assented  a 
compliance  if  the  prediction  took  place." 

Although  her  home  was  in  Plymouth,  her  place  of 
residence  was  occasionally  changed  during  the  war. 
At  one  time  she  lived  in  the  house  at  Milton,  which 
Governor  Hutchinson  had  occupied.  Wherever  she 
was,  the  friends  of  America  were  always  welcomed  to 
the  shelter  of  her  roof,  and  the  hospitalities  of  her 
table.  In  different  passages  of  her  letters  to  Mr. 
Adams,  the  officers  with  whom  she  became  acquainted 
are  described.  The  following  extract  is  interesting: 
*  Letter,  October,  1775, 
4* 


82  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

"The  Generals  Washington,  Lee,  and  Gates,  with 
several  other  distinguished  officers  from  head-quarters, 
dined  with  us  (at  Watertown)  three  days  since.  The 
first  of  these  I  think  one  of  the  most  amiable  and 
accomplished  gentlemen,  both  in  person,  mind,  and 
manners,  that  I  have  met  with.  The  second,  whom  I 
never  saw  before,  I  think  plain  in  his  person  to  a  de 
gree  of  ugliness,  careless  even  to  unpoliteness — his 
garb  ordinary,  his  voice  rough,  his  manners  rather 
morose;  yet  sensible,  learned,  judicious,  and  penetrat 
ing:  a  considerable  traveller,  agreeable  in  his  narra 
tions,  and  a  zealous,  indefatigable  friend  to  the  Ameri 
can  cause ;  but  much  more  from  a  love  of  freedom,  and 
an  impartial  sense  of  the  inherent  rights  of  mankind  at 
large,  than  from  any  attachment  or  disgust  to  particular 
persons  or  countries.  The  last  is  a  brave  soldier,  a  high 
republican,  a  sensible  companion,  an  honest  man,  of  un 
affected  manners  and  easy  deportment." 
She  speaks  thus  of  the  Count  D'Estaing  : 
"While  the  errand  on  which  the  Count  D'Estaing 
came  out  excites  our  gratitude,  the  dignity  of  his  de 
portment  commands  respect ;  and  his  reserved  affability, 
if  I  may  so  express  it,  heightens  our  esteem." 
And  La  Fayette  is  praised  in  laconic  fashion : 
"Penetrating,  active,  sensible,  and  judicious,  he  ac 
quits  himself  with  the  highest  applause  in  the  public  eye, 
while  the  politeness  of  his  manners,  and  the  sociability 
of  his  temper,  insure  his  welcome  at  every  hospitable 
board." 

Every  page  from  the  pen  of  Mrs.  Warren,  is  remark- 


MERCY    WARREN.  83 

able  for  clearness  and  vigor  of  thought.  Thus  her  style 
was  not  vitiated  by  the  artificial  tastes  of  the  day ;  yet 
her  expression  is  often  studiously  elaborated,  in  accord 
ance  with  the  prevalent  fashion.  This  is  the  case  in 
her  letters  written  with  most  care  ;  while  in  others  her 
ardent  spirit  pours  out  its  feelings  with  irrepressible 
energy,  portraying  itself  in  the  genuine  and  simple  lan 
guage  of  emotion.  The  following  passage  perhaps  did 
not  then  appear  studied,  even  in  a  familiar  letter  : 

"  The  late  convulsions  are  only  the  natural  struggles 
which  ensue  when  the  genius  of  liberty  arises  to  assert 
her  rights  in  opposition  to  the  ghost  of  tyranny.  I 
doubt  not  this  fell  form  will  ere  long  be  driven  from 
our  land  :  then  may  the  western  skies  behold  virtue 
(which  is  generally  the  attendant  of  freedom)  seated  on 
a  throne  of  peace,  where  may  she  ever  preside  over  the 
rising  Commonwealth  of  America."* 

About  this  time,  as  it  appears,  was  published  "  The 
Group" — a  satirical  dramatic  piece  in  two  Acts,  in  which 
many  of  the  leading  tory  characters  of  the  day  were 
humorously  introduced.  A  strong  political  influence 
has  been  ascribed  to  this  and  other  satirical  poems  from 
her  pen.  It  is  in  allusion  to  this  that  Mrs.  Adams 
speaks  of  "a  Rapatio  soul" — Governor  Hutchinson 
being  thus  designated.  The  following  description  is 
applied  to  him  : 

"  But  mark  the  traitor — his  high  crime  glossed  o'er 
Conceals  the  tender  feelings  of  the  man, 

*  Letter  to  Mrs.  Lathrop,  1775. 


84  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

The  social  ties  that  bind  the  human  heart ; 

He  strikes  a  bargain  with  his  country's  foes, 

And  joins  to  wrap  America  in  flames. 

Yet  with  feigned  pity,  and  satanic  grin, 

As  if  more  deep  to  fix  the  keen  insult, 

Or  make  his  life  a  farce  still  more  complete, 

He  sends  a  groan  across  the  broad  Atlantic, 

And  with  a  phiz  of  crocodilian  stamp, 

Can  •weep,  and  wreathe,  still  hoping  to  deceive ; 

He  cries — the  gathering  clouds  hang  thick  about  her, 

But  laughs  within ;  then  sobs — 

Alas,  my  country !" 

ACT  II.     SCENE  I. 

With  the  classical  allusions  then  common,  she  men 
tions 

u India's  poisonous  weed, 

Long  since  a  sacrifice  to  Thetis  made, 
A  rich  regale.     Now  all  the  watery  dames 
May  snuff  souchong,  and  sip  in  flowing  bowls 
The  higher  flavored  choice  Hysonian  stream, 
And  leave  their  nectar  to  old  Homer's  gods." 

It  may  be  imagined  that  such  bold  and  keen  satire 
would  produce  a  marked  sensation,  and  be  severely  felt 
by  the  persons  against  whom  it  was  aimed.  The  author 
herself  seems  to  have  had  some  misgivings,  fearing  lest 
her  patriotic  feelings  should  have  carried  her  too  far. 
Mrs.  Adams  thus  re-assures  her  : 

"  I  observe  my  friend  is  laboring  under  apprehension, 
lest  the  severity  with  which  a  certain  Group  was  drawn, 
was  incompatible  with  that  benevolence  which  ought 
always  to  be  predominant  in  a  female  character. 


MERCY    WARREN.  85 

Though  '  an  eagle's  talon  asks  an  eagle's  eye/  and 
satire  in  the  hands  of  some  is  a  very  dangerous  wea 
pon  ;  yet  when  it  is  so  happily  blended  with  benevo 
lence,  and  is  awakened  only  by  the  love  of  virtue  and 
abhorrence  of  vice — when  truth  is  unavoidably  pre 
served,  and  ridiculous  and  vicious  actions  are  alone  the 
subject,  it  is  so  far  from  blamable  that  it  is  certainly 
meritorious." 

Mrs.  Warren  employed  much  of  her  leisure  with  her 
pen.  She  kept  a  faithful  record  of  occurrences  during 
the  dark  days  of  her  country's  affliction,  through  times 
that  engaged  the  attention  both  of  the  philosopher  and 
the  politician.  She  did  this  with  the  design  of  trans 
mitting  to  posterity  a  faithful  portraiture  of  the  most 
distinguished  characters  of  the  day. 

Her  intention  was  fulfilled  in  her  history  of  the  war. 
Her  poetical  compositions,  afterwards  collected  and  de 
dicated  to  General  Washington,  were  the  amusement 
of  solitude,  when  many  of  her  friends  were  actively 
engaged  in  the  field  or  cabinet.  Some  of  them  con 
tain  allusions  to  bodily  sufferings,  her  health  being  far 
from  robust.  The  tragedies,  "  The  Sack  of  Rome," 
and  "  The  Ladies  of  Castile/''  are  more  remarkable  for 
patriotic  sentiment  than  dramatic  merit.  The  verse  is 
smooth  and  flowing,  and  the  language  poetical,  but 
often  wanting  in  the  simplicity  essential  to  true  pathos. 
An  interest  deeper  than  that  of  the  story  is  awakened 
by  the  application  of  many  passages  to  the  circum 
stances  of  the  times.  The  truth  of  the  following  lines 
must  have  been  dolefully  felt : 


86  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

"  'Mongst  all  the  ills  that  hover  o'er  mankind, 
Unfeigned,  or  fabled  in  the  poet's  page, 
The  blackest  scroll  the  sister  furies  hold 
For  red-eyed  wrath,  or  malice  to  fill  up, 
Is  incomplete  to  sum  up  human  woe ; 
Till  civil  discord,  still  a  darker  fiend, 
Stalks  forth  unmasked  from  his  infernal  den, 
With  mad  Alecto's  torch  in  his  right  hand, 
To  light  the  flame,  and  rend  the  soul  of  nature." 

Both  these  tragedies  were  read  with  interest,  and 
much  praised  in  after  years.  Alexander  Hamilton 
writes  to  the  author,  July  1st,  1791  : 

"  It  is  certain  that  in  the  "  Ladies  of  Castile,"  the 
sex  will  find  a  new  occasion  of  triumph.  Not  being  a 
poet  myself,  I  am  in  the  less  danger  of  feeling  mortifi 
cation  at  the  idea  that  in  the  career  of  dramatic  com 
position  at  least,  female  genius  in  the  United  States 
has  out-stripped  the  male." 

The  criticism  of  John  Adams — who  writes  from 
London,  Dec.  25th,  1787,  is  equally  favorable. 

"  The  "  Sack  of  Rome"  has  so  much  spirit  in  itself, 
that  for  the  honor  of  America,  I  should  wish  to  see  it 
acted  on  the  stage  in  London,  before  crowded  audiences. 
The  dedication  of  it  does  so  much  honor  to  me,  that  I 
should  be  proud  to  see  it  in  print,  even  if  it  could  not 
be  acted.  It  requires  almost  as  much  interest  and 
intrigue  to  get  a  play  acted,  as  to  be  a  member  of 
Parliament." 

At  another  time  he  says  of  her  Poems  :  "  The  Poems 
are  not  all  of  them  new  to  me,  by  whom  some  of  them 
have  been  read  and  esteemed  some  years  ago.  How- 


MERCY    WARREN.  87 

ever  foolishly  some  European  writers  may  have  sported 
with  American  reputation  for  genius,  literature  and 
science,  I  know  not  where  they  will  find  a  female 
poet  of  their  own  to  prefer  to  the  ingenious  author  of 
these  compositions."* 

"A  Poetical  Reverie"  was  published  before  the 
breaking  out  of  the  war.  It  gives  a  poetical  view  of 
the  future  greatness  of  America,  and  the  punishment 
of  her  oppressors.  "  The  Squabble  of  the  Sea  Nymphs," 
celebrates  the  pouring  of  the  tea  into  the  sea,  and  is 
something  in  the  Rape  of  the  Lock  style.  The  lines  to 
a  friend,  who  on  the  American  determination  to  sus 
pend  all  commerce  with  Grea-t  Britain,  except  for  the 
necessaries  of  life,  requested  a  poetical  list  of  the  articles 
the  ladies  might  comprise  under  that  head,  have  some 
fine  satire.  The  reader  will  not  object  to  the  following 
specimen : 

"  An  inventory  clear 
Of  all  she  needs,  Lamira  offers  here  ; 
Nor  does  she  fear  a  rigid  Cato's  frown 
When  she  lays  by  the  rich  embroidered  gown, 
And  modestly  compounds  for  just  enough, — 
Perhaps  some  dozens  of  more  slighty  stuff: 
With  lawns  and  lutestrings — blond  and  mechlin  laces, 
Fringes  and  jewels,  fans  and  tweezer  cases ; 
Gay  cloaks  and  hats,  of  every  shape  and  size, 
Scarfs,  cardinals,  and  ribbons  of  all  dyes ; 
With  ruffles  stamped,  and  aprons  of  tambour, 
Tippets  and  handkerchiefs,  at  least  three  score  : 
With  finest  muslins  that  fair  India  boasts; 

*  MS.  Letter  to  Mrs.  Warren,  Dec.  20th,  J  790. 


88  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

And  the  choice  herbage  from  Chinesan  coasts  ; 
(But  while  the  fragrant  hyson  leaf  regales, 
Who'll  wear  the  home-spun  produce  of  the  vales  1 
For  if  'twould  save  the  nation  from  the  curse 
Of  standing  troops — or  name  a  plague  still  worse, 
Few  can  this  choice  delicious  draught  give  up, 
Though  all  Medea's  poisons  fill  the  cup.) 
Add  feathers,  furs,  rich  satins,  and  ducapes, 
And  head-dresses  in  pyramidal  shapes;* 
Side-boards  of  plate,  and  porcelain  profuse, 
With  fifty  dittos  that  the  ladies  use ; 
If  my  poor  treacherous  memory  has  missed, 

Ingenious  T 1  shall  complete  the  list. 

So  weak  Lamira,  and  her  wants  so  few, 
Who  can  refuse  ?  they're  but  the  sex's  due. 
"  In  youth,  indeed,  an  antiquated  page 
Taught  us  the  threatenings  of  a  Hebrew  sage 
'Gainst  wimples,  mantles,  curls  and  crisping  pins, 
But  rank  not  these  among  our  modern  sins ; 
For  when  our  manners  are  well  understood, 
What  in  the  scale  is  stomacher  or  hood  ? 

'Tis  true,  we  love  the  courtly  mien  and  air, 
The  pride  of  dress,  and  all  the  debonair : 
Yet  Clara  quits  the  more  dressed  neglige, 
And  substitutes  the  careless  polance ; 
Until  some  fair  one  from  Britannia's  court 

*  It  is  mentioned  in  Sanderson's  Biography  of  the  Signers  of  Inde 
pendence,  that  the  Whig  ladies  of  Philadelphia  having  adopted  the 
tory  fashion  of  high  head-dresses,  after  the  evacuation  of  the  city  by 
the  British,  some  Whigs  dressed  a  negress  in  the  full  costume  of  a 
loyalist  lady,  took  her  to  a  place  of  resort,  where  the  fashionables  dis 
played  their  towering  top-knots,  seating  her  in  a  conspicuous  place, — 
and  afterwards  paraded  her  through  the  city.  Nothing,  however, 
could  stop  the  progress  of  the  fashion,  which  for  a  season  became 
general  in  America. 


MERCY    WARREN.  89 

Some  jaunty  dress,  or  newer  taste  import ; 
This  sweet  temptation  could  not  be  withstood, 
Though  for  the  purchase  paid  her  father's  blood  ; 
Though  loss  of  freedom  were  the  costly  price, 
Or  flaming  comets  sweep  the  angry  skies; 
Or  earthquakes  rattle,  or  volcanoes  roar  • 
Indulge  this  trifle,  and  she  asks  no  more; 
Can  the  stern  patriot  Clara's  suit  deny  ? 
Tis  beauty  asks,  and  reason  must  comply." 

The  powers  of  Mrs.  Warren  were  devoted  to  nobler 
objects  than  chastising  the  follies  of  the  day.  She 
gave  her  tenderest  sympathies  to  the  sufferings  of  her 
friends,  and  poured  the  balm  of  consolation  into  many  a 
wounded  heart.  The  letters  of  Mrs.  Adams  show 
how  much  she  leaned,  amidst  her  heavy  trials,  on  this 
faithful  support.  Nor  was  her  kindness  limited  to  the 
circle  of  her  acquaintance.  Every  sufferer  from  this 
cruel  war  had  a  claim  her  heart  acknowledged,  and  her 
benevolence  went  forth  on  its  gentle  mission  among 
strangers.  She  addressed  a  letter  of  condolence  to  the 
widow  of  the  brave  Montgomery,  Jan.  20th,  1776,  in 
which  the  consolatory  suggestions  are  those  of  a  patriot 
and  a  Christian. 

"  While  you  are  deriving  comfort,"  she  says,  "  from 
the  highest  source,  it  may  still  further  brighten  the 
clouded  moment  to  reflect  that  the  number  of  your 
friends  is  not  confined  to  the  narrow  limits  of  a  province, 
but  by  the  happy  union  of  the  American  Colonies, 
(suffering  equally  by  the  rigor  of  oppression,)  the  affec 
tions  of  the  inhabitants  are  cemented  ;  and  the  urn  of 
the  companion  of  your  heart  will  be  sprinkled  with  the 


90  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

tears  of  thousands  who  revere  the  commander  at  the 
gates  of  Quebec,  though  not  personally  acquainted  with 
General  Montgomery." 

Montgomery,  as  is  known,  married  Janet  Livingston, 
a  sister  of  Chancellor  Robert  R.  Livingston.  Her  life 
was  a  secluded  one,  and  affords  few  materials  for 
biography;  but  her  letters  expressive  of  her  feelings 
have  a  deep  interest.  Mrs.  Warren  says  with  truth — 
writing  to  her  Nov.  25th,  1777  : — 

"  The  sensibility  of  soul,  the  pathos  of  grief  so  strongly 
marked  in  your  letters,  have  convinced  me  that  the 
brave  Montgomery  had  a  partner  worthy  of  his  charac 
ter." 

The  following  is  an  extract  from  her  letter  in  reply 
to  Mrs.  Warren  : — 
"  My  dear  Madam, 

"  The  sympathy  that  is  expressed  in  every  feature  of 
your  letter,  claims  from  me  the  warmest  acknowledg 
ments  ;  and  the  professions  of  friendship  from  one  who 
so  generously  feels  and  melts  at  the  woes  of  a  stranger, 
not  only  soothe  but  flatter  me. 

"  It  is  very  kind  of  you,  madam,  to  seek  for  alleviating 
consolations  in  a  calamity  (though  of  so  much  glory). 
I  thank  God  I  feel  part  of  their  force,  and  it  is  owing  to 
such  affectionate  friends  as  you,  that  have  lightened  the 
load  of  misery. 

"As  a  wife  I  must  ever  mourn  the  loss  of  the  husband, 
friend  and  lover ;  of  a  thousand  virtues,  of  all  domestic 
bliss  ;  the  idol  of  my  warmest  affections,  and  in  one 
word,  my  every  dream  of  happiness.  But  with  America 


MERCY    WARREN.  91 

I  weep  the  still  greater  loss  of  the  firm  soldier  and  the 
friend  to  freedom.  Let  me  repeat  his  last  words  when 
we  parted :  '  You  shall  never  blush  for  your  Mont 
gomery} 

"  Nobly  has  he  kept  his  word ;  but  how  are  my  sorrows 
heightened !  Methinks  I  am  like  the  poor  widow  in  the 
Gospel,  who  having  given  her  mite,  sits  down  quite 
destitute.  Yet  would  I  endeavor  to  look  forward  to  the 
goal  with  hope  ;  and  though  the  path  is  no  longer  strewed 
with  flowers,  trust  to  the  sustaining  hand  of  friendship 
to  lead  me  safely  through,  and  in  assisting  me  to  rise 
superior  to  my  misfortunes,  make  me  content  to  drag 
out  the  remainder  of  life,  till  the  Being  who  has  deprived 
me  of  husband  and  father,  will  kindly  close  the  melan 
choly  scene,  and  once  more  unite  me  to  them  in  a 
world  of  peace,  where  the  tyrant  shall  no  more  wantonly 
shed  the  blood  of  his  innocent  subjects,  and  where  vice 
and  virtue  will  receive  their  reward." 

0 

All  the  letters  of  Mrs.  Montgomery  preserved  in  the 
correspondence  of  Mrs.  Warren,  dwell  on  her  irrepara 
ble  loss,  breathing  a  tender  sorrow,  mingled  with  an 
ardent  spirit  of  patriotism.  She  writes,  Nov.  20th,  1780: 

"I  have  been  interrupted.  Another  alarm  of  the 
enemy's  being  in  full  march  for  Saratoga,  and  the  poor 
harrassed  militia  are  again  called  upon.  My  impatient 
spirit  pants  for  peace.  When  shall  the  unfortunate 
individual  have  the  gloomy  satisfaction  of  weeping  alone 
for  his  own  particular  losses!  In  this  luckless  state, 
woes  follow  woes — every  moment  is  big  with  something 
fatal.  We  hold  our  lives  and  fortunes  on  the  most 


92  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

precarious  tenure.  Had  Arnold's  plan  taken  place,  we 
could  not  have  escaped  from  a  fate  dreadful  in  thought ; 
for  these  polished  Britons  have  proved  themselves  fertile 
in  inventions  to  procrastinate  [protract]  misery." 

When  going  with  her  nephew  to  visit  her  husband's 
family  in  Dublin,  her  patriotic  feeling  is  still  fervent. 
"  When  I  return,"  she  says,  "  I  hope  to  find  my  dear 
country,  for  which  I  have  bled,  the  envy  of  her  enemies 
and  the  glory  of  her  patriots." 

The  friendships  formed  by  Mrs.  Warren  were  not 
short-lived.  The  letters  addressed  to  her  evince  the 
warmth  of  attachment  she  inspired ;  and  her  own  true 
heart  never  swerved  from  its  faith.  The  interchange 
of  sentiments  was  continued  for  years  ;  and  when  inter 
rupted,  resumed  with  the  same  affectionate  ardor  as 
soon  as  the  obstacles  were  removed.  Mrs.  Washington 
was  one  of  her  favorite  correspondents.  On  her  visit 
to  head-quarters  in  Cambridge,  Mrs.  Warren  invited 
her  to  her  hoijse,  and  paid  her  many  attentions.  Her 
letter  from  Valley  Forge,  describing  their  accommoda 
tions,  and  others  have  been  elsewhere  published.  The 
Commander-in-chief  joined  in  his  wife's  feelings  of 
regard. 

Another  of  Mrs.  Warren's  intimate  friends,  was 
Hannah  Winthrop,  the  wife  of  Dr.  Winthrop,  of  Cam 
bridge.  Her  letters  discover  a  mind  of  no  common  order. 
They  corresponded  sometimes  under  the  signatures 
of  Honoria  and  Philomela,  the  last  name  being;  bestowed 

7  o 

on  Mrs.  Warren  for  her  powers  of  song.  The  poetical 
signature  assumed  by  Mrs.  Warren  was  "Marcia," 


MERCY    WARREN.  93 

afterwards  given  at  her  request  to  a  beloved  grand 
daughter.  But  as  the  subjects  became  momentous  on 
which  the  two  wrote,  the  fanciful  appellations  were 
dropped.  Some  portions  of  Mrs.  Winthrop's  letters 
are  so  characteristic,  that  extracts  will  be  interesting. 
She  writes,  in  Jan.  1773,  "I  think  one  of  the  most 
extraordinary  political  manoeuvres  this  century  has  pro 
duced,  is  the  ministerial  mandate  to  the  Newportians 
for  transporting  them  a  thousand  leagues  for  trial.  Oh, 
America!  you  have  reason  to  tremble  and  arouse,  if  we 
of  this  side  of  the  Atlantic  are  not  able  to  say  to  this 
Royal  Vengeance — hitherto  shalt  thou  come  and  no 
further  ;  here  shall  thy  proud  waves  be  stayed  !  I  should 
rejoice  to  see  the  Plymouthean  spirit  prevail,  which 
discovers  such  noble  disinterested  virtue,  and  such  a 
sacred  regard  to  rights  purchased  at  the  expense  of 
every  thing  valuable  by  those  persevering,  self-denying 
patriarchs,  who,  if  permitted  to  be  spectators  of  these 
terrestrial  scenes,  must  view  those  of  their  sons  who 
set  so  little  value  upon  the  dear  bought  purchases,  with 
displeasure..  Many  are  waiting  impatiently  the  meeting 
of  our  assembly.  *  I  hope  Colonel  Warren  will  not 

fail  of  favoring  his  country  with  his  presence  at  that 
important  crisis,  when  every  eye  will  be  upon  our 
political  fathers." 

Again,  Jan.  1st,  1774,  her  patriotic  spirit  breaks  out. 
"  Yonder,  the  destruction  of  the  detestable  weed,  made 
so  by  cruel  exaction,  engages  our  attention.  The  virtu 
ous  and  noble  resolution  of  America's  sons,  in  defiance 
of  threatened  desolation  and  misery  from  arbitrary 


94  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

despots,  demands  our  highest  regard.  May  they  yet  be 
endowed  with  all  that  firmness  necessary  to  carry  them 
through  all  their  difficulties,  till  they  come  off  conquerors. 
We  hope  to  see  good  accounts  of  the  tea  cast  away  on 
the  Cape.  The  union  of  the  Colonies,  the  firm  and 
sedate  resolution  of  the  people,  is  an  omen  for  good 
unto  us.  And  be  it  known  unto  Britain,  even  American 
daughters  are  politicians  and  patriots,  and  will  aid  the 
good  work  with  their  female  efforts."  *  *  * 
" —  Nor  can  she  ever  forget,  nor  will  old  time  ever 
erase — the  horrors  of  that  midnight  cry,  preceding  the 
bloody  massacre  at  Lexington,  \vhen  we  were  roused 
from  the  benign  slumbers  of  the  season,  by  beat  of 
drum  and  ringing  of  bells,  with  the  dire  alarm  that  a 
thousand  of  the  troops  of  George  the  Third  had  gone 
forth  to  murder  the  peaceful  inhabitants  of  the  surround 
ing  villages.  A  few  hours,  with  the  dawning  day,  con 
vinced  us  the  bloody  purpose  was  executing ;  the  platoon 
firing  assuring  us  the  rising  sun  must  witness  the 
bloody  carnage.  Not  knowing  what  the  event  would 
be  at  Cambridge,  at  the  return  of  these  bloody  ruffians, 
and  seeing  another  brigade  dispatched  to  the  assistance 
of  the  former,  looking  with  the  ferocity  of  barbarians, 
it  seemed  necessary  to  retire  to  some  place  of  safety, 
till  the  calamity  was  passed.  My  partner  had  been 
confined  a  fortnight  by  sickness.  After  dinner  we  set 
out,  not  knowing  whither  we  went.  We  were  directed 
to  a  place  called  Fresh-pond,  about  a  mile  from  the 
town ;  but  what  a  distressed  house  did  we  find  it,  filled 
with  women  whose  husbands  had  gone  forth  to  meet 


MERCY    WARREN.  95 

the  assailants,  seventy  or  eighty  of  these  (with  number 
less  infant  children,)  weeping  and  agonizing  for  the  fate 
of  their  husbands.  In  addition  to  this  scene  of  distress, 
we  were  for  sometime  in  sight  of  the  battle ;  the  glitter 
ing  instruments  of  death  proclaiming  by  an  incessant 
[fire]  that  much  blood  must  be  shed;  that  many  widowed 
and  orphaned  ones  [must]  be  left  as  monuments  of  British 
barbarity.  Another  uncomfortable  night  we  passed; 
some  nodding  in  their  chairs,  some  resting  their  weary 
limbs  on  the  floor.  The  welcome  harbingers  of  day 
gave  notice  of  its  dawning  light.  [It]  brings  no  news. 
It  is  unsafe  to  return  to  Cambridge,  as  the  enemy  were 
advancing  up  the  river,  and  fixing  on  the  town  to  stay 
in. 

"  Thus  with  precipitancy  we  were  driven  to  the 
town  of  Anderson,  following  some  of  our  acquaintance — 
five  of  us  to  be  conveyed  with  one  poor  tired  horse  and 
chaise ;  thus  we  began  our  pilgrimage,  alternately 
walking  and  riding,  the  roads  filled  with  frighted 
women  and  children  ;  some  in  carts  with  their  tattered 
furniture,  others  on  foot  fleeing  into  the  woods.  But 
what  added  greatly  to  the  horrors  of  the  scene,  was  our 
passing  through  the  bloody  field  at  Monotong,  which 
was  strewed  with  the  mangled  bodies.  We  met  one 
affectionate  father  with  a  cart,  looking  for  his  murdered 
son,  and  picking  up  his  neighbors  who  had  fallen  in 
battle,  in  order  for  their  burial." 

"July  8th,  1775. — Our  barrack,  or  wigwam,  or  what 
ever  name  you  may  please  to  give  it  w7hen  you  see  it, 
ornamented  with  broken  chairs  and  unlegged  tables, 


96  WOMEN    OF    THE    KEVOLUTION. 

with  shattered  etceteras,  is  entirely  at  your  service. 
Methinks  I  need  not  repeat  the  pleasure  I  shall  have  in 
administering  comfort  to  my  friends/3 

She  writes  in  the  following  August,  after  the  confla 
gration  of  Charlestown — "  The  laying  a  whole  town  in 
ashes,  after  repeated  promises  that  if  they  would  protect 
their  troops  in  their  return  from  Concord,  it  should  be 
the  last  place  that  should  suffer  harm !  How  did  they 
give  shelter  to  the  wounded  expiring  soldiers!  Their 
houses,  their  beds,  were  prepared  to  receive  them ;  the 
women  readily  engaged  in  pouring  balm  into  their 
wounds,  making  broths  and  cordials  to  support  their 
exhausted  spirits,  for  at  that  time  the  softer  sex  had  not 
been  inured  to  trickling  blood  and  gaping  wounds. 
Some  of  the  unhappy  victims  died.  They  gave  up  the 
ghost  blessing  the  hands  that  gave  relief;  and  now  in 
return  for  this  kindness,  they  take  the  first  opportunity 
to  make  five  hundred  householders  miserable ;  involving 
many  a  poor  widow  and  orphan  in  one  common  ruin. 
Be  astonished,  O  heavens,  at  this,  and  let  the  inhabitants 
of  America  tremble  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  such  a 
merciless  foe." 

The  following  extract,  the  last  that  will  be  given 
from  Mrs.  Winthrop's  letters,  describes  the  entry  into 
Cambridge  of  the  captive  army  of  Burgoyne.  The 
letter  bears  date  November  llth;  1777  : 

"  It  is  not  a  great  while  since  I  wrote  my  dear  friend, 
on  my  disappointment  in  not  paying  her  a  visit.  IVow 
methinks  I  hear  her  wondering  how  it  is  with  her  Cam 
bridge  friends,  who  are  at  this  time  delayed  with  British 


MERCY    WARREN.  97 

and  Hessian — what  shall  I  call  them  ?  who  are  pranc 
ing  and  patrolling  in  every  corner  of  the  town,  ornament 
ed  with  their  glittering  side-arms — weapons  of  destruc 
tion.  A  short  detail  of  our  situation  may  perhaps  amuse 
you.  You  will  be  able  to  form  a  judgment  of  our  un 
happy  circumstances.  Last  Thursday,  which  was  a 
very  stormy  day,  a  large  number  of  British  troops  came 
softly  through  the  town  via  Watertown  to  Prospect 
Hill.  On  Friday  we  heard  the  Hessians  were  to  make 
a  procession  in  the  same  route.  We  thought  we  should 
have  nothing  to  do  but  view  them  as  they  passed.  To 
be  sure  the  sight  was  truly  astonishing.  I  never  had 
the  least  idea  that  the  creation  produced  such  a  sordid 
set  of  creatures  in  human  figure — poor,  dirty,  emaciated 
m-en.  Great  numbers  of  women,  who  seemed  to  be 
the  beasts  of  burden,  having  bushel-baskets  on  their 
backs,  by  which  they  were  bent  double.  The  contents 
seemed  to  be  pots  and  kettles,  various  sorts  of  furni 
ture,  children  peeping  through  gridirons  and  other  uten 
sils — some  very  young  infants,  who  were  born  on  the 
road — the  women  barefoot,  clothed  in  dirty  rags.  Such 
effluvia  filled  the  air  while  they  were  passing,  that 
had  they  not  been  smoking  all  the  time,  I  should  have 
been  apprehensive  of  being  contaminated.  After  a 
noble-looking  advanced-guard,  General  Burgoyne  head 
ed  this  terrible  group  on  horseback.  The  other  gen 
erals  also  clothed  in  blue  cloaks — Hessians,  Waldeckers, 
Anspackers,  Brunswickers,  etc.,  etc.,  followed  on.  The 
Hessian  generals  gave  us  a  polite  bow  as  they  passed. 
Not  so  the  British.  Their  baggage- wagons  [were]  drawn 
5 


98  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

by  poor,  half-starved  horses.  But  to  bring  up  the  rear, 
another  fine,  noble-looking  guard  of  American  brawny 
victorious  yeomanry,  who  assisted  in  bringing  these 
sons  of  slavery  to  terms.  Some  of  our  wagons  drawn 
by  fat  oxen,  driven  by  joyous-looking  Yankees,  closed 
the  cavalcade.  The  generals  and  other  officers,  went 
to  Bradish's,  where  they  quarter  at  present.  The  pri 
vates  trudged  through  thick  and  thin  to  the  hills,  where 
we  thought  they  were  to  be  confined.  But  what  was 
our  surprise,  when  in  the  morning  we  beheld  an  inun 
dation  of  those  disagreeable  objects  filling  our  streets  ? 
How  mortifying  is  it ! — -they  in  a  manner  demanding 
our  houses  and  colleges  for  their  genteel  accommoda 
tion.  Did  the  brave  General  Gates  ever  mean  this  ? 
Did  our  legislature  ever  intend  the  military  should  pre 
vail  above  the  civil  ?  Is  there  not  a  degree  of  unkind- 
ness  in  loading  poor  Cambridge,  almost  ruined  before 
this  great  army  seemed  to  be  let  loose  upon  us !  What 
will  be  the  consequence,  time  will  discover.  Some 
polite  ones  say  we  ought  not  to  look  on  them  as  pris 
oners — that  they  are  persons  of  distinguished  rank. 
Perhaps,  too,  we  must  not  view  them  in  the  light  of 
enemies.  I  fear  this  distinction  will  be  soon  lost.  Sur 
prising  that  our  general,  or  any  of  our  colonels,  should 
insist  on  the  first  university  in  America  being  disbanded 
for  their  more  genteel  accommodation  ;  and  we,  poor  op 
pressed  people,  seek  an  asylum  in  the  woods  against 

a  piercing  winter!  Where  is  the  stern  virtue  of  a , 

who  opposed  such  infractions,  in  former  days  ?  Who  is 
there  to  plead  our  cause  ?  Pity — pity  it  is  our  Assern- 


MERCY    WARREN.  99 

bly  had  not  settled  these  matters  before  their  adjourn 
ment.  It  will  be  vastly  more  difficult  to  abridge  them 
after  such  an  unbounded  license.  Perhaps  you  may 
see  some  of  them  at  Plymouth.  For  my  part,  I  think 
insults,  famine,  and  a  train  of  evils  present  themselves 
to  view.  General  Burgoyne  dined  on  Saturday  in 

Boston  with  General  .     He  rode  through  the 

town  properly  attended,  down  Court  street  and  through 
the  main  street ;  and  on  his  return  walked,  on  foot  to 
Charlestown  Ferry,  followed  by  a  great  number  of  spec 
tators  as  ever  attended  a  Pope ;  and  generously  ob 
served  to  an  officer  with  him,  the  decent  and  modest 
behavior  of  the  inhabitants  as  he  passed  ;  saying,  if  he 
had  been  conducting  prisoners  through  the  city  of  Lon 
don,  not  all  the  Guards  of  Majesty  could  have  pre 
vented  insults.  He  likewise  acknowledges  Lincoln  and 
Arnold  to  be  great  generals.  It  is  said  we  shall  have 
not  less  than  seven  thousand  persons  to  feed  in  Cam 
bridge  and  its  environs,  more  than  its  inhabitants.  Two 
hundred  and  fifty  cords  of  wood  will  not  serve  them  a 
week.  Think  then  how  we  must  be  distressed.  Wood 
has  risen  to  £5  10s.  per  cord,  and  but  a  little  to  be  pur 
chased.  I  never  thought  I  could  lie  down  to  sleep  sur 
rounded  by  these  enemies  ;  but  we  strangely  become 
inured  to  those  things  which  appear  difficult  when  dis 
tant." 

*  #  #  #  # 

"  If  you  like  anecdotes,  I  will  give  you  one  more : 
"  When  General  Phillips  was  travelling  back  of  Al 
bany,  where  it  is  very  rocky  and  barren,  he  expressed 


100  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

his  astonishment  that  they  should  ever  cross  the  Atlan 
tic,  and  go  through  such  difficulty  to  conquer  so  un 
favorable  a  country,  which  would  not  be  worth  keeping 
when  conquered.  When  they  came  upon  the  fertile 
banks  of  Connecticut  River,  General  Whipple  said  to 
him,  "  This  is  the  country  which  we  are  fighting  for." 
"  Ah,"  replied  the  General,  "  this  is  a  country  worth  a 
ten  years'  war." 

Her  indignation  does  not  seem  to  have  subsided  at 
once.  In  February  she  says  : 

"  Methinks  I  hear  Mrs.  Warren  wondering  how  they 
do  at  head-quarters  at  Cambridge.  Perhaps  her  wonder 
may  increase  when  I  tell  her  the  British  officers  live  in 
the  most  luxurious  manner  possible,  rioting  on  the  fat 
of  the  land,  and  talking  at  large  with  the  self-impor 
tance  of  lords  of  the  soil." 

To  return  to  Mrs.  Warren.  From  her  retirement, 
in  which  she  was  constantly  visited  by  her  friends,  she 
continued  to  watch  the  progress  of  the  struggle,  and  to 
treasure  her  observations  for  the  historical  work  she 
had  in  contemplation.  Early  in  1777  she  writes  to  her 
friend,  Mrs.  Macaulay  : 

"  The  approaching  spring  appears  big  with  the  fate 
of  empires,  and  the  wheels  of  revolution  move  in  swift 
progression.  They  may  smite  the  diadem  from  the  brow, 
and  shake  some  tyrant  from  his  throne  before  he 
is  aware.  The  flatterers  of  majesty  may  be  more  at 
tended  to  than  the  prophetic  voice  that  augurs  evil ; 
yet  when  the  mene  tekel  is  inscribed  on  the  walls  of  the 
palace,  it  cannot  be  blotted  out  by  the  hand  of  the 


MERCY    WARREN,  101 

prince  who  humbles  not  himself,  though  he  sees  the 
works  that  have  been  done  in  the  days  of  his  fathers." 

After  the  close  of  the  war,  Mrs.  Macaulay  visited 
this  country,  and  met  with  a  reception  due  to  the  cele 
brity  her  works  had  gained.  Her  principles  endeared 
her  to  the  Americans,  who  were  willing  to  bestow  last 
ing  honor  on  such  as  had  distinguished  themselves  by 
the  sword  or  the  pen  in  defence  of  their  opinions.  Mrs. 
Warren  says  of  her,  writing  to  Mr.  Adams,  "  She  is  a 
lady  of  most  extraordinary  talents,  of  commanding 
genius,  and  brilliancy  of  thought.  This,  in  my  opinion, 
often  outruns  her  capacity  of  expression." 

Mrs.  Warren's  correspondence  with  Mr.  Adams 
continued  while  he  remained  abroad.  From  time  to 
time  she  demands  of  him  an  account  of  the  busy  and 
important  scenes  in  which  he  is  engaged ;  and  when 
she  fails  to  receive  intelligence,  playfully  accuses  the 
watery  nymphs  of  Neptune's  court  of  having  robbed 
the  woodland  dames  of  America.  This  was  in  allusion 
to  the  practice  during  the  war,  of  sinking  all  packages 
in  case  of  capture.  "  Otherwise,"  she  says,  "  a  folio 
from  the  court  of  France  would,  ere  this,  have  reached 
Braintree,  and  one  small  octavo  at  least  have  found  its 
way  to  Plymouth."  The  statesman  was  under  an  en 
gagement  to  make  observations  for  the  use  of  more 
than  one  woman  on  the  western  side  of  the  Atlantic. 
In  a  letter  to"  him,  dated  October,  1778,  she  thus  men 
tions  Franklin  : 

"  Are  you,  sir,  as  much  in  the  good  graces  of  the 
Parisian  ladies,  as  your  venerable  colleague,  Dr.  F ? 


102  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

We  often  hear  he  is  not  more  an  adept  in  politics  than 
a  favorite  of  the  ladies.  He  has  too  many  compliments 
of  gratulation  and  esteem  from  each  quarter  of  the 
globe,  to  make  it  of  any  consequence  whether  I  offer 
rny  little  tribute  of  respect  or  not.  Yet  I  would  tell 
him  as  a  friend  to  mankind,  as  a  daughter  of  America, 
and  a  lover  of  every  exalted  character,  that  no  one 
more  sincerely  wishes  the  continuance  of  his  health 
and  usefulness  ;  and  so  disinterested  is  my  regard,  that 
I  do  riot  wish  him  to  leave  the  soft  caresses  of  the  court 
of  France  ;  for  his  unpolished  countrywomen  will  be 
more  apt  to  gaze  at  and  admire  the  virtues  of  the 
philosopher,  than  to  embrace  the  patriotic  sage." 

A  soul  like  Mrs.  Warren's  must  have  been  continu 
ally  saddened  by  grief  and  pity,  in  the  view  not  only  of 
the  miseries  of  war,  but  the  depravity  prevalent  as  one 
of  its  consequences.  Yet  while  she  mourned  the  crimes 
and  follies  of  many  to  whom  her  country  looked  for 
succor,  she  followed  with  ardent  admiration  the  career 
of  those  incorruptible  patriots  who  kept  their  faith  un 
shaken  by  misfortune  or  temptation.  Her  anxieties 
and  hopes  were  freely  communicated  to  her  friends, 
whose  answers  show  the  intense  interest  felt  in  every 
movement.  Miss  Catharine  Livingston,  the  sister  of 
Mrs.  Montgomery,  writes  in  April,  1781  : 

"  The  news  from  the  southward  is  by  no  means  so 
favorable  as  the  sanguine  among  us  expected.  Arnold, 
it  is  feared,  will  get  off'  safely  as  well  as  Cornw7allis.  I 
think  the  British  understand  retreat  better  than  we  do 
pursuit.  It  has  been  an  observation,  this  war,  when- 


MERCY    WARREN.  103 

ever  the  expectations  of  the  multitude  were  raised  to 
almost  a  certainty  of  success,  the  event  has  turned  di 
rectly  opposite  to  their  views.  This  I  believe  we  may 
extend  to  private,  as  well  as  public  concerns." 

A  letter  from  Mrs.  Montgomery,  the  year  previous, 
so  agreeably  describes  Mrs.  Jay,  that  an  extract  must 
be  given  : 

"  You  speak  of  my  dear  friend  Mrs.  Jay.  We  have 
heard  from  her  at  Hispaniola,  where  she  was  obliged  to 
put  in  after  the  storm,  in  which  she  had  like  to  have 
been  taken.  When  she  arrives  at  Paris,  I  expect  to 
hear  from  her  ;  if  in  the  descriptive  way,  it  shall  be  en 
tirely  at  your  service.  She  is  one  of  the  most  worthy 
women  I  know — has  a  great  fund  of  knowledge,  and 
makes  use  of  most  charming  language  ;  added  to  this 
she  is  very  handsome,  which  will  secure  her  a  welcome 
with  the  unthinking,  whilst  her  understanding  will  gain 
her  the  hearts  of  the  most  worthy.  Her  manners  will 
do  honor  to  our  countrywomen  ;  and  I  really  believe 

will  please  even  at  the  splendid  court  of  Madrid. 

***** 

"  The  starting  tear,  and  the  heaving  sigh,  interrupt 
my  thread.  Strange  that  self  will  for  ever  discover 
itself!  I  find  I  am  to  learn  much  before  I  become  a 
philosopher  ;  but  in  every  instance  of  my  life  I  hope 
you,  my  dear  madam,  will  ever  find  me  your  most  sin 
cere  friend  and  humble  servant, 

"  J.  MONTGOMERY." 

Mrs.  Warren  wrote  many  letters  to  her  sons  at  col 
lege,  containing  sound  advice,  of  which  she  preserved 


104  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

copies,  labelling  the  packages  for  the  use  of  her  grand 
children.  Space  can  be  afforded  for  but  a  single  pas 
sage  from  one  of  these  parental  missives  : 

"I  am  persuaded  you  will  never  counteract  those 
native  dictates  that  lead  you  to  struggle  for  distinction 
by  cherishing  that  ambition  that  dignifies  the  rational 
creature.  May  you  extend  your  views  beyond  the 
narrow  limits  of  time,  that  you  may  rank  not  only  with 
those  models  of  virtue  and  heroism  that  have  been  so 
much  your  admiration  from  your  earliest  youth,  but  may 
be  able  to  stand  with  confidence  before  HIM  who  dis 
criminates  character  not  according  to  the  weak  decisions 
of  man,  but  by  the  unerring  scale  of  eternal  truth." 

Rochefoucault,  in  his  Travels  in  the  United  States, 
speaks  of  Mrs.  Warren's  extensive  and  varied  reading. 
She  was  then  seventy ;  and  he  says,  "  truly  interesting ; 
for,  lively  in  conversation,  she  has  lost  neither  the  activ 
ity  of  her  mind,  nor  the  graces  of  her  person."  Her 
history  of  the  Revolution  was  written,  but  not  published 
till  some  years  afterwards.  This  work  exhibits  her  as 
a  writer  in  advance  of  the  age.  Its  sound  judgment 
and  careful  research,  with  its  clear  and  vigorous  style, 
give  it  a  high  and  lasting  value.  Her  portraiture  of 
Mr.  Adams  gave  offence  to  the  great  statesman,  which 
for  a  time  threatened  to  interrupt  the  affectionate  rela 
tions  between  the  two  families.  But  after  a  sharp  cor 
respondence,  it  was  amicably  settled;  and  as  a  token 
of  reconciliation,  Mrs.  Adams  sent  her  friend  a  ring 
containing  her  own  and  her  husband's  hair.  This  is 


MERCY    WARREN.  105 

now  in  the  possession  of  one  of  Mrs.  Warren's  descend 
ants. 

For  many  years  before  her  death  Mrs.  Warren  was 
afflicted  with  the  failure  of  her  sight ;  but  she  submit 
ted  to  the  trial  with  pious  resignation,  continuing  to 
receive  with  cheerfulness  the  company  that  frequented 
her  house,  and  to  correspond  with  her  friends  by  means 
of  a  secretary.  A  passage  from  a  letter  to  one  of  her 
sons,  written  in  1799,  amidst  the  convulsions  that  agi 
tated  Europe,  may  serve  to  show  that  she  still  oc 
casionally  indulged  in  the  elaborate  style  so  much  in 
vogue : 

"  The  ices  of  the  Poles  seem  to  be  dissolved  to  swell 
the  tide  of  popularity  on  which  swim  the  idols  of  the 
day  ;  but  when  they  have  had  their  day,  the  tide  will 
retire  to  its  level,  and  perhaps  leave  the  floating  lumber 
on  the  strand  with  other  perishable  articles,  not  thought 
worth  the  hazard  of  attempting  their  recovery/' 

Towards  the  close  of  her  protracted  life,  her  influ 
ence  did  not  diminish ;  for  her  mental  superiority  was 
still  unimpaired  and  acknowledged.  Seldom  has  one 
woman  in  any  age,  acquired  such  an  ascendency  over 
the  strongest,  by  the  mere  force  of  a  powerful  intellect. 
She  is  said  to  have  supplied  political  parties  with  their 
arguments  ;  and  she  was  the  first  of  her  sex  in  America 
who  taught  the  reading  world  in  matters  of  state  policy 
and  history. 

By  her  own  relatives  and  connections  she  was  reve 
renced  and  beloved  in  a  degree  that  affords  the  best 
5* 


106  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

testimony  to  her  elevated  character,  and  the  faithful 
ness  with  which  she  had  discharged  her  duty  towards 
them.  The  influence  commanded  by  her  talents  was 
enhanced  by  her  virtues,  and  by  the  deep  religious  feel 
ing  which  governed  her  throughout  life.  Her  descend 
ants  are  still  taught  to  cherish  her  memory  with  reve 
rent  affection. 

The  portrait  from  which  the  engraving  is  taken,  was 
painted  by  Copley.  A  lady  who  visited  Mrs.  Warren 
in  1807,  describes  her  as  at  that  time  erect  in  person, 
and  in  conversation  full  of  intelligence  and  eloquence. 
Her  dress  was  a  steel-colored  silk  gown,  with  short 
sleeves  and  very  long  waist ;  the  black  silk  skirt  being 
covered  in  front  with  a  white  lawn  apron.  She  wore  a 
lawn  mob-cap,  and  gloves  covering  the  arm  to  the 
elbows,  cut  off  at  the  fingers. 

In  her  last  illness,  her  constant  fear  was  that  she 
might  lose  her  mental  faculties  as  death  approached. 
She  prayed  to  be  spared  this ;  and  her  prayer  was 
granted.  With  an  expression  of  thankfulness  upon  her 
lips — that  reason  was  clear,  and  the  vision  of  her  spirit 
unclouded — she  passed  to  the  rest  that  awaits  the  faith 
ful  Christian,  October  19th,  1814,  in  the  eighty-seventh 
year  of  her  age. 


VI. 


LUCIA   KNOX. 

WHEN  MAJOR  HENRY  KNOX,  then  a  resident  of  Bos 
ton,  was  parading  the  company  to  the  command  of 
which  he  had  just  been  elected,  he  was  seen,  among 
many  who  admired  the  young  officer,  by  Miss  Lucia 
Flucker,  the  daughter  of  the  Secretary  of  the  Province 
of  Massachusetts.  His  noble  form  and  martial  appear 
ance  naturally  attracted  the  attention  of  the  young 
lady  ;  and  on  a  personal  acquaintance,  a  mutual  senti 
ment  of  regard  grew  up  and  ripened  into  love.  Inter 
ruption  to  its  course  was  threatened  by  the  growing 
troubles  of  the  times.  Thomas  Flucker,  the  father  of 
Lucia,  who  had  long  held  office  under  the  British  gov 
ernment,  adhered  to  the  royal  side  amidst  popular  dis 
content.  The  maiden  had  adopted  her  lover's  views 
and  feelings.  In  the  gathering  storm,  the  time  came 
when  her  decision  was  to  be  made.  It  was  made  with 
a  true  woman's  faith  and  self-devotion  ;  and  she  pledged 
herself  to  the  fortunes  of  a  soldier's  wife.  The  separa 
tion  from  her  family  that  became  necessary,  was  a  pain 
ful  trial,  but  submitted  to  with  firmness  and  resolution. 
Mr.  Flucker  and  his  family  removed  from  the  country 


108  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

soon  after  the  battle  of  Lexington  ;  and  Mrs.  Knox, 
with  her  husband,  joined  the  American  army  at  Cam 
bridge.  From  this  time  she  adhered  to  her  determina 
tion  to  encounter  the  perils  and  hardships  incident  to  a 
military  life.  Neither  her  courage  nor  her  powers  of 
endurance  failed.  When  Boston  was  occupied  by  the 
British,  she  escaped  with  her  husband ;  and  in  their  pre 
cipitate  retreat,  it  is  said  that  she  concealed  the  sword 
he  wore  through  the  war,  by  having  it  quilted  within 
the  lining  of  her  cloak. 

In  various  journals  we  find  the  presence  of  Mrs. 
Knox  noticed  in  camp.  Chastellux  describes  the  hut 
on  a  small  farm  where  she  lived  with  her  children,  a 
short  distance  from  head-quarters  at  Verplanck's  Point. 
Whenever  her  health  permitted,  she  followed  the  army ; 
and  it  is  represented  that  her  presence  and  cheerful 
manners  did  much  to  diffuse  contentment  and  enliven 
dreary  scenes.  The  soldiers  could  not  murmur  at  pri 
vations  which  she  endured  without  complaint.  Sad  it 
is,  that  no  record  remains  of  the  ministrations  of  wo 
men  in  thus  softening  war's  grim  features.  The  good 
they  did,  however,  was  at  the  time  acknowledged  with 
respectful  gratitude.  There  is  reason  to  believe  that 
General  Knox  often  deferred  to  his  wife's  judgment,  re 
garding  her  as  a  superior  being;  and  it  is  said  that  her 
influence  and  superiority  were  owned  by  Washington 
himself.  Her  mind  was  undoubtedly  of  a  high  order, 
and  her  character  a  remarkable  one.  She  appears  to 
have  possessed  an  ascendency  over  all  with  whom  she 
associated.  After  the  close  of  the  struggle,  while  Gen- 


LUCIA    KNOX.  109 

eral  Knox  held  the  office  of  Secretary  of  War,  his 
wife's  position  was  next  to  that  of  Mrs.  Washington, 
whom  she  advised  in  matters  of  ceremony.  Mrs.  Knox 
had  a  taste  for  the  management  and  show  of  public 
life,  and  was  a  leader  of  the  ton  in  the  social  circles  at 
the  seat  of  government.  When  the  General  retired 
from  the  political  arena,  she  accompanied  him  to  his — or 
rather  her  estates  in  Maine.  She  had  inherited  a 
share  of  the  domain  on  Penobscot  River  and  Bay 
which  belonged  to  her  mother's  father,  General  Waido, 
the  proprietor  of  the  Waldo  patent  in  Maine.  The 
property  had  been  confirmed  by  government  to  her  and 
General  Knox  after  the  peace. 

Their  residence  was  at  Thomaston,  in  a  splendid 
mansion  at  the  head  of  St.  George's  River,  furnished 
with  taste  and  elegance.  Here  the  soldier  enjoyed  the 
honors  he  had  won,  and  spent  his  time  in  the  indul 
gence  of  his  literary  tastes,  and  the  companionship  of 
his  friends.  His  hospitality  was  unbounded,  and  nu 
merous  visitors  frequented  his  house.*  The  influence 
of  "  Madam  Knox,"  as  she  was  called,  on  all  within  the 
circle  of  her  acquaintance,  was  decided ;  and  she 
shared  the  lot  of  all  remarkable  persons,  in  having  ene- 

*  Sullivan,  in  his  "  Familiar  Letters  on  Public  Characters,"  speaks 
of  the  hospitality  of  Knox  at  his  superb  mansion.  It  was  not  unusual 
for  him  in  summer,  when  visited  by  great  numbers  of  his  friends,  to 
kill  an  ox  and  twenty  sheep  every  Monday  morning,  and  to  have  a 
hundred  beds  made  up  daily  in  the  house.  He  kept  for  his  own  use 
and  that  of  his  friends,  twenty  saddle  horses  and  several  pairs  of  car 
riage  horses  in  his  stables.  This  expensive  style  of  living  encroached 
greatly  on  his  means. 


110  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

mies  as  well  as  friends.  Tradition  speaks  much  of  her ; 
but  little  of  what  is  said  is  sufficiently  well  authenticated 
to  relate.  With  rare  powers  of  conversation,  a  me 
mory  stored  with  interesting  incidents,  and  much  know 
ledge  of  the  world,  she  was,  \vhen  she  pleased,  one  of 
the  most  entertaining  of  women ;  yet  she  sometimes 
awed  without  charming,  or  gave  offence  by  an  air  of 
independence,  or  the  boldness  of  her  manners.  Her 
thoughts  were  expressed  without  reserve  to  those  with 
wh^m  she  conversed,  and  sometimes  without  due  regard 
to  the  sensibilities  of  others.  She  is  said  to  have  pos 
sessed  a  great  talent  for  management,  and  to  have 
been  fond  of  match-making.  The  military  life  of  which 
she  had  partaken,  and  her  association  with  those  in 
command,  perhaps  imparted  a  tone  to  her  character  and 
deportment.  In  person  she  is  described  as  being  tall 
and  large  ;  and  in  manner  lofty  and  dignified.  She 
preferred  the  society  of  men  to  that  of  her  own  sex ; 
and  according  to  accounts  given  by  those  who  remem 
ber  her,  mingled  little  with  females,  and  had  few  inti 
mates  among  them.  Mrs.  Hull  was  her  frequent  com 
panion  in  Boston,  and  reported  to  be  of  a  spirit  congenial 
to  her  own.  Both  appear  to  have  been  what  is  called 
"  independent  women."  It  is  said  that  in  the  decline 
of  life  Mrs.  Kno'x  expressed,  with  deep  feeling,  her 
regret  that  her  interest  in  political  men  and  measures 
had  engrossed  her  mind  to  the  exclusion  of  aspirations 
and  associations  more  befitting  a  woman's  sphere ; 
and  asserted  that  were  her  life  to  be  lived  over  again, 
she  "  would  be  more  of  a  wife,  more  of  a  mother,  more 


MRS.    GATES.  Ill 

of  a  woman."  She  had  ten  children,  only  three  of 
whom  lived  beyond  infancy.  She  lived  at  her  place 
after  the  death  of  General  Knox,  continuing  active  in 
her  charities,  and  in  the  exercise  of  hospitality,  during 
her  almost  eighteen  years  of  widowhood.  She  died  in 
1824. 

THE  manuscript  correspondence  of  General  Gates, 
now  in  the  library  of  the  New  York  Historical  Society, 
contains  many  letters  addressed  to  Mrs.  Gates,  and 
some  written  by  her.  Although  these  give  no  detail  of 
her  personal  history,  they  throw  light  upon  some  points 
in  her  character,  showing  that  she  was  an  efficient  help 
mate  as  well  as  an  intelligent  companion  to  her  husband 
in  all  affairs  that  came  properly  under  her  supervision. 
She  was  undoubtedly  well  skilled  in  the  art  of  managing 
the  concerns  of  the  household  and  farm,  and  acquainted 
with  their  details.  Her  interest  in  public  affairs  is 
however,  not  the  less  manifest.  Colonel  Wilkinson 
announces  to  her  the  news  of  the  victory  at  Saratoga ; 
and  continual  allusions  in  the  correspondence  show 
that  she  closely  observed  the  progress  of  events.  Her 
letter  to  the  Count  D'Estaing  in  acknowledgment  of 
the  compliments  paid  her  husband,  may  serve  to  show 
that  she  could  write  both  with  ease  and  grace. 

DANBURY,  Oct.,  1778. 
SIR: 

The  terms  in  which  your  Excellency  has  expressed 
your  esteem  for  General  Gates  are  so  personally  obliging, 


112  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

that  I  am  afraid  I  am  rather  more  grieved  than  pure 
patriotism  permits,  that  I  cannot  at  this  time  send  you 
his  portrait.  It  is  in  Virginia. 

If  I  can  have  it  in  time  before  you  leave  these  parts, 
I  need  not  assure  you,  Sir,  that  my  partiality  to  the 
General  will  be  such  powerful  inducement  to  my 
transmitting  it  to  the  painter  you  have  directed  to  copy 
it,  that  you  may  depend  on  the  gratification  of  what 
your  kindne-ss  to  the  General  has  made  you  wish  for. 

With  all  the  gratitude  which  the  honor  you  feel  in 
clined  to  confer  on  General  Gates  entitles  you  to  from 
his  family,  and  with  the  respect  your  personal  merit 
commands  from  all,  I  have  the  honor  to  be, 

Sir,  your  Excellency's  most  humble 

and  most  obedient  servant.* 

The  maiden  name  of  Mrs.  Gates  was  Phillips.  She 
was  the  daughter  of  a  British  officer.  She  and  the 
General  resided  several  years  on  their  estate  in  Berkeley 
County,  Virginia.  They  afterwards  removed  to  New 
York,  and  fixed  their  abode  at  the  country  seat  near 
the  city  which  received  the  name  of  Rosehill.  Here 
General  Gates  appears  to  have  enjoyed  a  happy  retire 
ment,  cheered  by  visits  from  his  friends,  for  whom  "my 
Mary"  had  always  a  cordial  welcome. 

*From  the  original  MS. 


VII. 


MARY   DRAPER. 

WHEN  the  news  reached  Connecticut  that  blood  had 
been  shed,  Putnam,  who  was  at  work  in  the  field,  left 
his  plough  in  the  furrow,  and  started  for  Cambridge 
without  delaying  to  change  his  apparel.  Stark  was 
sawing  pine  logs  without  a  coat ;  he  shut  down  the 
gate  of  his  mill,  and  commenced  the  journey  to  Boston 
in  his  shirt-sleeves.*  The  same  spirit  prevailed  far  and 
near.  The  volunteers  waited  not  to  be  supplied  with 
arms,  but  seizing  on  whatever  rude  weapons  were  at 
hand,  hastened  away  to  fight  for  home  and  liberty.  The 
women,  lacking  not  their  share  of  patriotic  zeal,  were 
active  in  preparations  to  encourage,  assist,  and  sustain 
them.  Among  many  whose  persevering  exertions 
were  ready  and  efficient,  Mrs.  Draper  is  still  remem 
bered  with  admiration  by  those  who  knew  her.f  She 
was  the  wife  of  Captain  Draper,  of  Dedham,  Massa 
chusetts,  and  lived  on  a  farm.  Her  house,  which  was 

*  Sabine. 

f  The  facts  were  communicated  by  a  lady  who  was  well  acquainted 
with  Mrs.  Draper,  and  has  often  heard  her  relate  particulars  of  the 


114  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

always  a  home  for  the  destitute  while  occupied  by 
her,  is  yet  standing,  and  is  owned  by  one  of  her  descen 
dants.  It  was  her  abode  to  the  age  of  one  hundred 
years. 

Mrs.  Draper  felt  the  deepest  sympathy  for  the  hard 
ships  inevitably  encountered  by  the  newly  raised  troops, 
and  considered  the  limited  means  she  possessed  not  as 
her  own  property,  but  belonging  to  her  distressed 
country.  When  the  first  call  to  arms  sounded  through 
out  the  land,  she  exhorted  her  husband  to  lose  no  time 
in  hastening  to  the  scene  of  action  ;  and  with  her  own 
hands  bound  knapsack  and  blanket  on  the  shoulders  of 
her  only  son,  a  stripling  of  sixteen,  bidding  him  depart 
and  do  his  duty.  To  the  entreaties  of  her  daughter 
that  her  young  brother  might  remain  at  home  to  be 
their  protector,  she  answered  that  every  arm  able  to 
aid  the  cause  belonged  to  the  country.  "  He  is  wanted 
and  must  go.  You  and  I,  Kate,  have  also  service  to 
do.  Food  must  be  prepared  for  the  hungry  ;  for  before 
to-morrow  night,  hundreds,  I  hope  thousands,  will  be  on 
their  way  to  join  the  continental  forces.  Some  who 
have  travelled  far  will  need  refreshment,  and  you  and 
I,  with  Molly,  must  feed  as  many  as  we  can." 

This  undertaking,  though  of  no  small  labor,  was 
presently  commenced.  Captain  Draper  was  a  thriving 
farmer ;  his  granaries  were  wrell  filled,  and  his  wife's 
dairy  was  her  special  care  and  pride.  All  the  resources 
at  her  command  were  in  requisition  to  contribute  to 
her  benevolent  purpose.  Assisted  by  her  daughter  and 
the  domestic,  she  spent  the  whole  day  and  night,  and 


MARY    DRAPER.  115 

the  succeding  day,  in  baking  brown  bread.  The  ovens 
of  that  day  were  not  the  small  ones  now  in  use,  but 
were  suited  for  such  an  occasion,  each  holding  bread 
sufficient  to  supply  a  neighborhood.  By  good  fortune 
two  of  these  monster  ovens  appertained  to  the  establish 
ment,  as  is  frequently  the  case  in  New  England.  These 
were  soon  in  full  blast,  and  the  kneading  trough  was 
plied  by  hands  that  shrank  not  from  the  task.  At  that 
time  of  "hurry  and  confusion,  none  could  stop  long 
enough  to  dine.  The  people  were  under  the  influence 
of  strong  excitement,  and  all  were  in  such  haste  to  join 
the  army,  that  they  stayed  only  to  relieve  the  cravings 
of  hunger,  though  from  wrant  of  food,  and  fatigue,  many 
were  almost  exhausted.  With  the  help  of  a  disabled 
veteran  of  the  French  war,  who  had  for  years  resided  in 
her  family,  Mrs.  Draper  had  soon  her  stores  in  readiness. 
A  long  form  was  erected  by  the  road-side ;  large  pans 
of  bread  and  cheese  were  placed  upon  it,  and  replenished 
as  often  as  was  necessary;  while  old  John  brought 
cider  in  pails  from  the  cellar,  which,  poured  into  tubs, 
was  served  out  by  two  lads  who  volunteered  their 
services.  Thus  were  the  weary  patriots  refreshed  on 
their  way.  Mrs.  Draper  presided  at  the  entertainment; 
and  when  her  own  stock  of  provisions  began  to  fail, 
applied  to  her  neighbors  for  aid.  By  their  contributions 
her  hospitable  board  was  supplied,  till  in  a  few  days 
the  necessity  for  extraordinary  exertion  had  in  a 
measure  passed,  and  order  and  discipline  took  the  place 
of  popular  tumult.  When  each  soldier  carried  his 


116  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

rations,  the  calls  on  private  benevolence  were  less 
frequent  and  imperative. 

But  ere  long  came  the  startling  intelligence,  after  the 
battle  of  Bunker  Hill,  that  a  scarcity  of  ammunition 
had  been  experienced.  General  Washington  called 
upon  the  inhabitants  to  send  to  head-quarters  every 
ounce  of  lead  or  pewter  at  their  disposal,  saying  that 
any  quantity,  however  small,  would  be  gratefully 
received. 

This  appeal  could  not  be  disregarded.  It  is  difficult 
at  this  day  to  estimate  the  value  of  pewter  as  an  orna 
mental  as  well  as  indispensable  convenience.  The  more 
precious  metals  had  not  then  found  their  way  to  the 
tables  of  New  Englanders ;  and  throughout  the  coun 
try,  services  of  pewter,  scoured  to  the  brightness  of 
silver,  covered  the  board,  even  in  the  mansions  of  the 
wealthy.  Few  withheld  their  portion  in  that  hour  of 
the  country's  need  ;  and  noble  wrere  the  sacrifices  made 
in  presenting  their  willing  offerings.  Mrs.  Draper  was 
rich  in  a  large  stock  of  pewter,  which  she  valued  as 
the  ornament  of  her  house.  Much  of  it  was  precious 
to  her  as  the  gift  of  a  departed  mother.  But  the  call 
reached  her  heart,  and  she  delayed  not  obedience,  thank 
ful  that  she  was  able  to  contribute  so  largely  to  the  re 
quirements  of  her  suffering  country.  Her  husband 
before  joining  the  army  had  purchased  a  mould  for 
casting  bullets,  to  supply  himself  and  son  with  this 
article  of  warfare.  Mrs.  Draper  was  not  satisfied  with 
merely  giving  the  material  required,  when  she  could 


MRS.    POND.  117 

possibly  do  more  ;  and  her  platters,  pans,   and  dishes 
were  soon  in  process  of  transformation  into  balls. 

The  approach  of  winter  brought  fears  that  the  re 
sources  of  the  country  would  hardly  yield  supplies  for 
the  pressing  wants  of  the  army.  Mrs.  Draper  was  one 
of  the  most  active  in  efforts  to  meet  the  exigencies  of 
the  times ;  and  hesitated  at  no  sacrifice  of  personal 
convenience  to  increase  her  contributions.  The  supply 
of  domestic  cloth  designed  for  her  family  was  in  a 
short  time  converted  by  her  labor,  assisted  by  that  of  her 
daughter  and  maid,  into  coats  for  the  soldiers  :  the  sheets 
and  blankets  with  which  her  presses  were  stored,  were 
fashioned  into  shirts ;  and  even  the  flannel  already 
made  up  for  herself  and  daughter,  was  altered  into  men's 
habiliments.  Such  was  the  aid  rendered  by  women 
whose  deeds  of  disinterested  generosity  were  never 
known  beyond  their  own  immediate  neighborhood ! 

ANOTHER  anecdote  may  here  be  mentioned,  illustrative 
of  the  spirit  that  was  abroad.  On  the  morning  after 
the  battle  of  Lexington,  a  company  of  nearly  a  hun 
dred  halted  before  the  house  of  Colonel  Pond  of  West 
Dedham.  They  had  marched  all  night,  and  were  cov 
ered  with  dust,  and  faint  from  fatigue  and  want  of  food. 
Their  haste  was  urgent,  and  the  mistress  of  the  house 
whose  hospitality  they  claimed,  was  unprepared  for  the 
entertainment  of  so  large  a  party.  Her  husband  was 
absent  withv  the  army,  and  she  had  only  one  female 
assistant  and  a  hired  man.  But  the  willing  heart  can 
do  wonders.  In  a  few  minutes  she  had  a  large  brass 


118  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

kettle  holding  ten  pails  full,  over  the  fire,  filled  with 
water  and  Indian  meal  for  hasty  pudding.  In  the  barn 
yard  were  ten  cows  ready  to  contribute  their  share  to 
the  morning  meal.  Near  the  farm-house  was  a  store 
well  supplied  with  brown  earthen  dishes,  and  pewter 
spoons  tied  in  dozens  for  sale.  The  military  guests 
volunteered  their  aid.  Some  milked  the  cows,  others 
stirred  the  pudding ;  while  the  two  domestics  collected 
all  the  milk  in  the  neighborhood.  Thus,  in  the  short 
space  of  an  hour,  by  the  energetic  efforts  of  one  kind- 
hearted  woman,  a  hundred  weary,  hungry  soldiers  were 
provided  with  refreshment.  They  ate,  and  marched 
on  to  the  place  of  their  destination ;  receiving  encour 
agement,  it  cannot  be  doubted,  from  this  simple  mani 
festation  of  good- will,  which  was  not  soon  forgotten. 


VIII. 


FREDERICA   DE   RIEDESEL. 

GENERAL  WILKINSON,  who  was  personally  acquainted 
with  Madame  de  Riedesel,  published  fragments  of  her 
journal  in  his  Memoirs.  He  calls  her  "the  amiable, 
accomplished,  and  dignified  baroness.  " — "  I  have  more 
than  once,"  he  says,  "  seen  her  charming  blue  eyes  be 
dewed  with  tears,  at  the  recital  of  her  sufferings. '*  The 
regard  she  inspired,  however,  was  not  due  entirely  to 
admiration  of  her  loveliness;  for  others  in  the  Ameri 
can  ranks,  as  well  as  in  Europe,  were  deeply  interested 
in  her  account  of  her  adventures. 

Frederica  Charlotte  Louisa,  the  daughter  of  Mas- 
sow,  the  Prussian  Minister  of  State,  was  born  in  Bran- 
denburgh,  in  1746.  Her  father  was  Intendant  General 
of  the  allied  army  at  Minden,  where,  at  the  age  of 
seventeen,  she  married  Lieutenant  Colonel  Baron  de 
Riedesel.  In  the  war  of  the  Revolution,  he  was  ap 
pointed  to  the  command  of  the  Brunswick  forces  in  the 
British  service  in  America,  and  his  wife  followed  him 
in  1777,  with  her  three  young  children.  Her  journal, 
and  letters  addressed  to  her  mother,  describe  her  travels 
with  the  camp  through  various  parts  of  the  countrv, 


120  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

and  the  occurrences  she  witnessed.  These  papers,  in 
tended  only  for  a  circle  of  the  writer's  friends,  were 
first  published  by  her  son-in-law  in  Germany  in  1801, 
shortly  after  the  death  of  General  Riedesel.  Portions 
having  been  copied  into  periodicals,  and  read  with  inte 
rest,  the  whole  was  translated,  and  presented  to  the 
American  public.  It  forms  an  appropriate  appendix 
to  the  history  of  the  period,  with  its  graphic  pictures  of 
scenes  in  the  war  and  the  state  of  society,  and  its 
notices  of  distinguished  men.  But  it  is  still  more  valu 
able  as  exhibiting  an  example  of  female  energy,  forti 
tude,  and  conjugal  devotion.  The  moral  is  the  more 
striking  as  drawn  from  the  experience  of  a  woman  of 
rank,  subjected  to  dangers  and  privations  from  which 
the  soldier  might  have  shrunk.  The  readiness  with 
which  she  hastened  to  cross  the  ocean  that  she  might 
bear  her  husband  company  through  toils  or  want,  or 
suffering,  or  death,  the  courage  with  which  she  encoun 
tered  perils,  and  the  cheerful  resignation  displayed  under 
trials  felt  the  more  severely  for  the  sake  of  those  she 
loved,  present  a  touching  picture  of  fidelity  and  tender 
ness.  After  she  has  joined  her  husband  in  Canada, 
and  is  again  separated  from  him,  she  thinks  only  of  joy 
at  being  permitted  at  last  to  follow  the  army.  Oblig 
ed  to  pass  the  night  on  a  lonely  island,  where  the  only 
shelter  is  a  half-finished  house,  and  the  only  couch  a 
cluster  of  bushes  over  which  the  traveller's  cloaks 
are  spread,  she  utters  no-  murmur,  nor  complains  of 
the  scarcity  of  food.  "  A  soldier,"  she  says,  "  put  a  pot 
to  the  fire.  T  asked  him  what  it  contained.  'Some 


FREDERICA    DE    RIEDESEL.  121 

potatoes/  quoth  he,  '  which  I  brought  with  me.'  I 
threw  a  longing  glance  at  them ;  but  as  they  were  few, 
it  \voulcl  have  been  cruel  to  deprive  him  of  them.  At 
last  my  desire  to  have  some  for  my  children  overcame 
my  diffidence  ;  and  he  gave  me  half  his  little  provision 
(about  twelve  potatoes),  and  took  at  the  same  time  from 
his  pocket  two  or  three  ends  of  candles,  which  I  ac 
cepted  with  pleasure  ;  for  my  children  were  afraid  to 
remain  in  the  dark.  A  dollar  which  I  gave  him  made 
him  as  happy  as  his  liberality  had  made  me." 

With  her  three  children,  the  Baroness  proceeded  to 
meet  her  husband  at  Fort  Edward.  When  the  army 
broke  up  the  encampment,  she  \vould  not  remain  be 
hind.  Her  spirits  rose  at  the  observation  of  General 
Burgoyne  on  the  passage  across  the  Hudson — "  Britons 
never  retrograde."  The  action  at  Freeman's  Farm  took 
place  in  her  hearing,  and  some  of  the  wounded  were 
brought  to  the  house  where  she  was.  Among  them 
was  a  young  English  officer,  an  only  son,  whose  suffer 
ings  excited  her  deepest  sympathy,  and  whose  last 
moans  she  heard.  A  calash  was  ordered  for  her  further 
progress  with  the  army.  They  marched  through  ex 
tensive  forests,  and  a  beautiful  district,  deserted  by 
the  inhabitants,  who  were  gone  to  re-inforce  General 
Gates. 

The  Diary  gives  a  touching  account  of  the  scenes 
passed  through  at  the  memorable  conclusion  of  Bmv 
goyne's  campaign,  with  the  battles  of  Saratoga.  "  On 
the  seventh  of  October,"  she  says,  "  our  misfortunes  be 
gan."  Generals  Burgoyne,  Phillips,  and  Frazer,  with 
6 


122  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

the  Baron,  were  to  dine  with  her  on  that  day.  She 
had  observed  in  the  morning  an  unusual  movement  in 
the  camp ;  and  had  seen  a  number  of  armed  Indians  in 
their  war  dresses,  who  answered  "War!  war!"  to  her 
inquiries  whither  they  were  going.  As  the  dinner  hour 
approached,  an  increased  tumult,  the  firing,  and  the  yell 
ing  of  the  savages,  announced  the  approaching  battle. 
The  roar  of  artillery  became  louder  and  more  incessant. 
At  four  o'clock,  instead  of  the  guests  invited,  General 
Frazer  was  brought  in  mortally  wounded.  The  table, 
already  prepared  for  dinner,  was  removed  to  make  room 
for  his  bed.  The  Baroness,  terrified  by  the  noise  of  the 
conflict  raging  without,  expected  every  moment  to  see 
her  husband  also  led  in  pale  and  helpless.  Towards 
night  he  came  to  the  house,  dined  in  haste,  and  desired 
his  wife  to  pack  up  her  camp  furniture,  and  be  ready 
for  removal  at  an  instant's  warning.  His  dejected 
countenance  told  the  disastrous  result.  Lady  Ackland, 
whose  tent  was  adjoining,  was  presently  informed  that 
her  husband  was  wrounded,  and  a  prisoner!  Thus 
through  the  long  hours  till  day,  the  kind  ministries  of 
the  Baroness  were  demanded  by  many  sufferers.  "  I 
divided  the  night,"  she  says,  "  between  her  I  wished  to 
comfort,  and  my  children  who  were  asleep,  but  who  I 
feared  might  disturb  the  poor  dying  General.  Several 
times  he  begged  my  pardon  for  the  trouble  he  thought 
he  gave  me.  About  three  o'clock  I  was  informed  he 
could  not  live  much  longer ;  and  as  I  did  not  wish  to 
be  present  at  his  last  struggle,  I  wrapped  my  children 


FREDERICA    DE    RIEDESEL.  123 

in  blankets,  and  retired  into  the  room  below.  At  eight 
in  the  morning  he  expired." 

All  day  the  cannonade  continued,  while  the  me 
lancholy  spectacle  of  the  dead  was  before  their  eyes. 
The  wromen  attended  the  wounded  soldiers  who  were 
brought  in,  like  ministering  angels.  In  the  afternoon 
the  Baroness  saw  the  house  that  had  been  built  for  her 
in  flames. 

Frazer's  last  request  had  been  that  he  should  be  buried 
at  six  in  the  evening,  in  the  great  redoubt  on  the  hill ; 
and  the  retreat  was  delayed  for  this  purpose.  The 
generals,  with  their  retinues,  followed  the  honored  corpse 
to  the  spot,  in  the  midst  of  a  heavy  fire  from  the  Amer 
icans  ;  for  General  Gates  knew  not  that  it  was  a  funeral 
procession.  The  women  stood  in  full  view  of  this  im 
pressive  and  awful  scene,  so  eloquently  described  by 
Burgoyne  himself: 

"The  incessant  cannonade  during  the  solemnity; 
the  steady  attitude  and  unaltered  voice  with  which  the 
the  chaplain  officiated,  though  frequently  covered  with 
dust  which  the  shot  threw  up  on  all  sides  of  him  ;  the 
mute  but  expressive  mixture  of  sensibility  and  indig 
nation  upon  every  countenance ;  these  objects  will  re 
main  to  the  last  of  life  upon  the  mind  of  every  man 
who  was  present." 

The  deepening  shadows  of  evening  closed  around  the 
group  thus  rendering  the  last  service  to  one  of  their 
number,  while  each  might  anticipate  his  own  death  in 
the  next  report  of  artillery.  A  subject  was  presented 


124  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

for  the  pencil  of  a  master.  An  appropriate  side-piece 
to  the  picture  might  represent  the  group  of  anxious 
females  who  shared  the  peril,  regardless  of  themselves. 
"  Many  cannon-balls/'  says  Madame  de  Riedesel,  "  flew 
close  by  me  ;  but  I  had  my  eyes  directed  towards  the 
mountain  where  my  husband  was  standing  amidst  the 
fire  of  the  enemy  •  and  of  course  I  did  not  think  of  my 
own  danger." 

That  night  the  army  commenced  its  retreat,  leaving 
the  sick  and  wounded  ;  a  flag  of  truce  waving  over  the 
hospital  thus  abandoned  to  the  mercy  of  the  foe.  The 
rain  fell  in  torrents  all  day  of  the  9th,  and  it  was  dark 
when  they  reached  Saratoga.  The  Baroness  suffered 
cruel  suspense  as  to  the  fate  of  her  husband.  She  had 
taken  charge  of  some  valuables  belonging  to  the  officers, 
and  having  no  place  to  change  her  drenched  apparel, 
lay  down  with  her  children  upon  some  straw  by  the 
fire.  Her  provisions  were  shared  the  next  day  with  the 
officers ;  and  being  insufficient  to  satisfy  their  hunger, 
she  made  an  appeal  to  the  Adjutant-General  in  their 
behalf.  Again  the  alarm  of  battle,  and  reports  of  mus 
kets  and  cannon,  drove  them  to  seek  shelter  in  a  house, 
which  was  fired  at  under  the  impression  that  the  gene 
rals  were  there.  It  was  occupied  by  women  and  crippled 
soldiers.  They  were  obliged  at  last  to  descend  into  the 
cellar,  where  the  Baroness  laid  herself  in  a  corner, 
supporting  her  children's  heads  on  her  knees.  The 
night  was  passed  in  the  utmost  terror  and  anguish ;  and 
with  the  morning  the  terrible  cannonade  commenced 
anew.  So  it  continued  for  several  days.  But  in  the 


FREDERICA    DE    RIEDESEL.  125 

midst  of  the  dreadful  scenes,  when  the  Baron  spoke  of 
sending  his  family  to  the  American  camp,  the  heroic 
wife  declared  that  nothing  would  be  so  painful  to  her  as 
to  owe  safety  to  those  with  whom  he  was  fighting.  He 
then  consented  that  she  should  continue  to  follow  the 
Tirmy.  "  However,"  she  says — "  the  apprehension  that 
he  might  have  marched  away,  repeatedly  entered  my 
mind;  and  I  crept  up  the  staircase  more  than  once  to 
dispel  my  fears.  When  I  saw  our  soldiers  near  their 
watchfires,  I  became  more  calm,  and  could  even  have 
slept." 

"  The  want  of  water  continuing  to  distress  us,  we 
could  not  but  be  extremely  glad  to  find  a  soldier's  wife 
so  spirited  as  to  fetch  some  from  the  river,  an  occupa 
tion  from  which  the  boldest  might  have  shrunk,  as  the 
Americans  shot  every  one  who  approached  it.  They 
told  us  afterwards  that  they  spared  her  on  account  of 
her  sex. 

"  I  endeavored  to  dispel  my  melancholy  by  continu 
ally  attending  to  the  wounded.  I  made  them  tea  and 
coffee,  and  often  shared  my  dinner  with  them.  One  day 
a  Canadian  officer  came  creeping  into  our  cellar,  and 
was  hardly  able  to  say  that  he  was  dying  with  hunger. 
I  felt  happy  to  offer  him  my  dinner,  by  eating  which  he 
recovered  his  health,  and  I  gained  his  friendship." 

At  length  the  danger  was  over. 

"  A  gallant  army  formed  their  last  array 
Upon  that  field,  in  silence  and  deep  gloom, 
And  at  their  conquerors'  feet 
Laid  their  war  weapons  down. 


126  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

"  Sullen  and  stern — disarmed  but  not  dishonored ; 
Brave  men — but  brave  in  vain — they  yielded  there  j— 
The  soldier's  trial  task 
Is  not  alone  '  to  die.' " 

On  the  seventeenth,  the  capitulation  was  carried  into 
effect.  The  generals  waited  upon  Gates,  and  the  troops 
surrendered  themselves  prisoners  of  war.  "  At  last," 
writes  the  fair  Riedesel,  "  my  husband's  groom  brought 
me  a  message  to  join  him  with  the  children.  I  once 
more  seated  myself  in  my  dear  calash ;  and  while 
driving  through  the  American  camp,  was  gratified  to 
observe  that  nobody  looked  at  us  with  disrespect ;  but 
on  the  contrary,  greeted  us,  and  seemed  touched  at  the 
sight  of  a  captive  mother  with  three  children.  I  must 
candidly  confess  that  I  did  not  present  myself,  though  so 
situated,  with  much  courage  to  the  enemy.  When  I 
drew  near  the  tents,  a  fine-looking  man  advanced 
towards  me,  helped  the  children  from  the  calash,  and 
kissed  and  caressed  them.  He  then  offered  me  his 
arm,  and  tears  trembled  in  his  eyes.  "  You  tremble, 
madam,"  said  he  ;  "  do  not  be  alarmed,  I  beg  of  you." 
"  Sir,"  cried  I — "  a  countenance  so  expressive  of  bene 
volence,  and  the  kindness  you  have  evinced  towards  my 
children,  are  sufficient  to  dispel  all  apprehension."  He 
then  ushered  me  into  the  tent  of  General  Gates,  whom 
I  found  engaged  in  friendly  conversation  with  Generals 
Burgoyne  and  Phillips.  General  Burgoyne  said  to  me — 
"  You  can  now  be  quiet  and  free  from  all  apprehension 
of  danger."  I  replied  that  I  should  indeed  be  reprehen- 


FREDERICA    DE    REIDESEL.  127 

sible,  if  I  felt  any  anxiety,  when  our  general  was  on 
such  friendly  terms  with  General  Gates. 

"  All  the  Generals  remained  to  dine  with  the  Amer 
ican  commander.  The  gentleman  who  had  received 
me  with  so  much  kindness,  came  and  said  to  me  : 
"  You  may  find  it  embarrassing  to  be  the  only  lady  in 
so  large  a  company  of  gentlemen.  Will  you  come 
with  your  children  to  my  tent,  and  partake  of  a  frugal 
dinner,  offered  with  the  best  will  ?"  "  You  show  me  so 
much  kindness,"  replied  I,  "  I  cannot  but  believe  that 
you  are  a  husband  and  a  father."4  He  informed  me  that 
he  was  General  Schuyler.  The  dinner  was  of  excel 
lent  smoked  tongues,  beefstakes,  potatoes,  fresh  butter, 
and  bread.  Never  did  a  meal  give  me  so  much  plea 
sure.  I  was  easy  after  many  months  of  anxiety,  and  I 
read  the  same  happy  change  in  the  countenances  of 
those  around  me.  That  my  husband  was  out  of  dan 
ger,  was  a  still  greater  cause  of  joy.  After  our  dinner, 
General  Schuyler  begged  me  to  pay  him  a  visit  at  his 
house  near  Albany,  where  he  expected  that  General 
Burgoyne  would  also  be  his  guest.  I  sent  to  ask  my 
husband's  directions,  who  advised  me  to  accept  the  in 
vitation.  We  were  two  days'  journey  from  Albany, 
and  as  it  was  now  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  he 
wished  me  to  endeavor  to  reach,  on  that  day,  a  place 
distant  about  three  hours'  ride.  General  Schuyler  car 
ried  his  civilities  so  far  as  to  solicit  a  well-bred  French 
officer  to  accompany  me  on  that  first  part  of  my  jour 
ney.  As  soon  as  he  saw  me  safely  established  in  the 


128  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

house  where  I  was  to  remain,  he  went  back  to  the 
General. 

"  We  reached  Albany,  where  we  had  so  often  wished 
ourselves ;  but  did  not  enter  that  city,  as  wre  had  hoped, 
with  a  victorious  army.  Our  reception,  however,  from 
General  Schuyler,  and  his  wife  and  daughters,  was  not  like 
the  reception  of  enemies,  but  of  the  most  intimate 
friends.  They  loaded  us  with  kindness ;  and  -they 
behaved  in  the  same  manner  towards  General  Burgoyne, 
though  he  had  without  any  necessity  ordered  their 
splendid  establishment  to  be  burnt.  All  their  actions 
proved  that  at  the  sight  of  the  misfortunes  of  others, 
they  quickly  forgot  their  own.  Burgoyne  was  so  much 
affected  by  this  generous  deportment,  that  he  said  to 
Schuyler :  "  You  are  too  kind  to  me — who  have  done 
you  so  much  injury."  "  Such  is  the  fate  of  war,"  he 
replied ;  "  let  us  not  dwell  on  this  subject."  We  remain 
ed  three  days  with  that  excellent  family,  and  they 
seemed  to  regret  our  departure/' 

General  Riedesel,  who  brooded  continually  on  the  late 
disastrous  events,  and  upon  his  captivity,  was  not  able 
to  bear  his  troubles  with  the  spirit  and  cheerfulness  of 
his  wife.  He  became  moody  and  irritable;  and  his 
health  was  much  impaired  in  consequence  of  having 
passed  many  nights  in  the  damp  air.  "  One  day,"  says  the 
Baroness,  "  when  he  was  much  indisposed,  the  American 
sentinels  at  our  doors  were  very  noisy  in  their  merri 
ment  and  drinking;  and  grew  more  so  when  my  husband 
sent  a  message  desiring  them  to  be  quiet ;  but  as  soon 
as  I  went  myself,  and  told  them  the  General  was  sick, 


FREDERICA    DE    RIEDESEL.  129 

they  were  immediately  silent.  This  proves  that  the 
Americans  also  respect  our  sex." 

The  prisoners  at  length  reached  Boston  ;  and  after  a 
stay  of  three  weeks,  were  transported  to  Cambridge, 
where  Madame  de  Riedesel  and  her  family  were  lodged 
in  one  of  the  best  houses  of  the  place.*'  None  of  the 
officers  were  permitted  to  enter  Boston  ;  but  Madame 
de  Riedesel  went  to  visit  Mrs.  Carter,  the  daughter  of 
General  Schuyler,  and  dined  with  her  several  times. 
Boston  she  describes  as  a  fine  city ;  but  the  inhabitants 
as  "  outrageously  patriotic."  The  captives  met  in  some 
instances  with  very  different  treatment  from  that 
which  they  had  before  encountered  ;  and  the  worst,  she 
says,  from  persons  of  her  own  sex.  They  gazed  at 
her  with  indignation,  and  testified  contempt  when  she 
passed  near  them.  Mrs.  Carter  resembled  her  parents 
in  mildness  and  goodness  of  heart;  but  the  Baroness  has 
no  admiration  for  her  husband — "this  wicked  Mr.  Carter, 
who,  in  consequence  of  General  Howe's  having  burnt 
several  villages  and  small  towns,  suggested  to  his 
countrymen  to  cut  off  our  generals'  heads,  to  pickle 
them,  and  to  put  them  in  small  barrels ;  and  as  often  as 
the  English  should  again  burn  a  village — to  send  them 
one  of  these  barrels."  She  here  adds  some  sad  stories 
of  American  cruelty  towards  the  loyalists. 

On  the    third  of  June,    1778,  Madame  de  Riedesel 

*  On  one  of  the  windows  of  this  house  the  name  "  Riedesel,"  written 
on  the  glass  with  a  diamond,  is  still  to  be  seen.  In  front  are  several 
beautiful  lime-trees,  and  the  view  is  a  lovely  one.  The  house  near  it, 
which  Washington  occupied  as  his  head-quarters,  is  now  the  residence 
of  the  poet  Longfellow. 
6* 


130  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

gave  a  ball  and  supper  to  celebrate  her  husband's  birth 
day.  The  British  officers  were  invited,  with  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Carter,  and  General  Burgoyne,  of  whom  the  fair 
hostess  records  that  he  sent  an  excuse  after  he  had 
made  them  wait  till  eight  o'clock.  "  He  had  always 
some  excuse,"  observes  she — "  for  not  visiting  us,  until 
he  was  about  departing  for  England,  when  he  came 
and  made  me  many  apologies;  to  which  I  made  no 
other  reply  than  that  I  should  be  extremely  sorry  if  he 
had  put  himself  to  any  inconvenience  for  our  sake." 
The  dance  and  supper  were  so  brilliant,  and  so  numer 
ously  attended,  and  the  toasts  drunk  with  such  enthu 
siasm,  that  the  house  was  surrounded  with  people,  who 
began  to  suspect  a  conspiracy.  The  Baroness  here 
notices  the  American  method  of  telegraphing  by  lighting 
torches  on  surrounding  heights,  when  they  wish  to  call 
troops  together.  When  General  Howe  attempted  to 
rescue  the  troops  detained  in  Boston,  the  inhabitants 
planted  their  torches,  and  a  crowd  of  people  without 
shoes  or  stockings — their  rifles  on  their  shoulders, 
flocked  together ;  so  that  the  landing  would  have  been 
attended  with  extreme  difficulty.  Towards  the  ap 
proach  of  winter  the  prisoners  received  orders  to  set 
out  for  Virginia.  The  ingenuity  of  Madame  de  Riedesel 
devised  means  of  preserving  the  colors  of  the  German 
regiments,  which  the  Americans  believed  they  had 
burned.  A  mattress  was  made  under  her  direction, 
into  which  the  honorable  badges  were  introduced. 
Captain  O'Connel,  under  pretence  of  some  commission, 
took  the  mattress  to  New  York;  and  the  Baroness 


FREDERIC  A    DE    RIEDESEL.  131 

received  it  again  at  Halifax,  on  their  voyage  from  New 
York  to  Canada,  and  had  it  placed  in  her  cabin. 

A  rascal  on  no  small  scale  was  the  cook  of  Madame 
la  Baronne.  She  had  given  him  money  for  the  daily 
expenditure — ;but  he  had  paid  nobody  ;  and  while  prepa 
rations  for  the  journey  were  going  on,  bills  were 
presented  to  the  amount  of  a  thousand  dollars.  The 
cook  was  arrested ;  but  escaping,  went  into  the  service 
of  General  Gates,  who  finding  him  too  expensive,  he 
entered  into  the  employment  of  General  La  Fayette. 
The  Marquis  used  to  say,  "  that  he  was  a  cook  only  fit 
for  a  king." 

The  Baroness  had  the  accommodation  of  an  English 
coach  in  commencing  her  journey  to  Virginia,  Novem 
ber,  1778.  The  provisions  followed  in  the  baggage 
wagon ;  but  as  that  moved  more  slowly,  they  were 
often  without  food,  and  were  obliged  to  make  a  halt 
every  fourth  day.  At  Hartford,  General  La  Fayette 
was  invited  to  dine  by  the  Baron,  somewhat  to  the 
perplexity  of  his  wife,  who  feared  she  would  have  diffi 
culty  in  preparing  her  provisions  so  as  to  suit  one  who 
appreciated  a  good  dinner.  The  Marquis  is  mentioned 
with  great  respect;  but  Madame  de  Riedesel  thinks  the 
suspicions  of  the  Americans  were  excited  by  hearing 
them  speak  French. 

"  We  reached  one  day  a  pretty  little  town ;  but  our 
wagon  remaining  behind,  we  were  very  hungry. 
Seeing  much  fresh  meat  in  the  house  where  we  stopped, 
I  begged  the  landlady  to  sell  me  some.  "1  have," 
quoth  she,  "several  sorts  of  meat;  beef,  mutton  and 


132  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

lamb."  I  said,  "let  me  have  some;  I  will  pay  you 
liberally."  But  snapping  her  fingers,  she  replied;  "You 
shall  not  have  a  morsel  of  it ;  why  have  you  left  your 
country  to  slay  and  rob  us  of  our  property?  Now 
that  you  are  our  prisoners,  it  is  our  tura  to  vex  you." 
"  But,"  rejoined  I,  "  see  those  poor  children ;  they  are 
dying  of  hunger."  She  remained  still  unmoved  ;  but 
when  at  length  my  youngest  child,  Caroline,  who  was 
then  about  two  years  and  a  half  old,  went  to  her,  seized 
her  hands,  and  said  in  English :  "  Good  woman,  I  am 
indeed  very  hungry,"  she  could  no  longer  resist;  and 
carrying  the  child  to  her  room,  she  gave  her  an  egg. 
"But,"  persisted  the  dear  little  one,  "  I  have  two  sisters." 
Affected  by  this  remark,  the  hostess  gave  her  three 
eggs,  saying,  "  I  am  loth  to  be  so  weak,  but  I  cannot 
refuse  the  child."  By-and-by  she  softened,  and  offered 
me  bread  and  butter.  I  made  tea  :  and  saw  that  the 
hostess  looked  at  our  tea-pot  with  a  longing  eye ;  for 
the  Americans  are  very  fond  of  that  beverage  ;  yet  they 
had  stoutly  resolved  not  to  drink  any  more,  the  tax  on 
tea,  as  is  well  known,  having  been  the  immediate  cause 
of  the  contest  with  Great  Britain.  I  offered  her,  how 
ever,  a  cup,  and  presented  her  with  a  paper  case  full  of 
tea.  This  drove  away  all  clouds  between  us.  She 
begged  me  to  go  with  her  into  the  kitchen,  and  there  I 
found  her  husband  eating  a  piece  of  pork.  The  woman 
went  into  the  cellar  to  bring  me  a  basket  of  potatoes. 
When  she  returned  into  the  kitchen,  the  husband  offered 
her  some  of  his  dainty  food ;  she  tasted  it,  and  returned 
to  him  what  remained.  I  was  disagreeably  struck  with 


FREDERICA    DE    RIEDESBL.  133 

this  partnership ;  but  the  man  probably  thought  I  was 
envious  of  it,  on  account  of  the  hunger  I  had  manifested ; 
and  presented  me  with  the  little  both  had  left.  I  feared 
by  refusing,  to  offend  them,  and  lose  the  potatoes.  I 
therefore  accepted  the  morsel,  and  having  kept  up  the 
appearance  as  if  I  ate,  threw  it  secretly  into  the  fire. 
We  were  now  in  perfect  amity  ;  with  the  potatoes  and 
some  butter  I  made  a  good  supper,  and  we  had  to  our 
selves  three  neat  rooms,  with  very  good  beds." 

On  the  banks  of  the  Hudson,  in  a  skipper's  house, 
they  were  not  so  fortunate  in  finding  good  accommo 
dations — being  given  the  remnants  of  breakfast  after 
the  hostess,  children,  and  servants  had  finished  their 
meal.  The  woman  was  a  staunch  republican,  and 
could  not  bring  herself  to  any  courtesies  towards  the 
enemies  of  her  country.  They  fared  a  little  better 
after  crossing  the  river.  When  the  aids-de-camp  who 
accompanied  them  to  the  house  where  they  were  to 
lodge,  wished  to  warm  themselves  in  the  kitchen,  the 
host  followed,  and  taking  them  by  their  arms,  said,  "  Is 
it  not  enough  that  I  give  you  shelter,  ye  wretched 
royalists  ?"  His  wife,  however,  was  more  amiable ; 
and  his  coarseness  gradually  softened,  till  they  became 
good  friends. 

They  stopped  one  night  on  the  road,  at  the  house  of 
a  Colonel  Howe,  to  whom  the  Baroness  meant  to  pay  a 
compliment  by  asking  him  if  he  was  a  relative  of  the 
general  of  that  name.  "  Heaven  forbid!"  replied  he,  in 
great  anger  ;  "  he  is  not  worthy  of  that  honor."  Ma 
dame  de  Riedesel  is  amusingly  indignant  at  the  san- 


134  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

guinary  temper  of  this  gentleman's  daughter,  who  was 
very  pretty  and  only  fourteen  years  of  age.  "  Sitting 
with  her  near  the  fire,  she  said  on  a  sudden,  staring  at 
the  blaze,  '  Oh !  if  I  had  here  the  king  of  England, 
with  how  much  pleasure  I  could  roast  and  eat  him!' 
I  looked  at  her  with  indignation,  and  said,  '  I  am  almost 
ashamed  to  belong  to  a  sex  capable  of  indulging  such 
fancies !'  I  shall  never  forget  that  detestable  girl." 

Passing  through  a  wild,  grand,  and  picturesque  coun 
try,  they  at  length  arrived  in  Virginia.  At  a  day's  dis 
tance  from  the  place  of  destination,  their  little  stock  of 
provisions  gave  out.  At  noon  they  reached  a  house, 
and  begged  for  some  dinner ;  but  all  assistance  was 
denied  them,  with  many  imprecations  upon  the  royal 
ists.  "  Seizing  some  maize,  I  begged  our  hostess  to -give 
me  some  of  it  to  make  a  little  bread.  She  replied  that' 
she  needed  it  for  her  black  people.  '  They  work  for  us/ 
she  added,  '  and  you  come  to  kill  us.'  Captain  Edmon- 
stone  offered  to  pay  her  one  or  two  guineas  for  a  little 
wheat.  But  she  answered,  •'  You  shall  not  have  it  even 
for  hundreds  of  guineas  ;  and  it  will  be  so  much  the 
better  if  you  all  die  !'  The  captain  became  so  enraged  at 
these  words,  that  he  was  about  to  take  the  maize  ;  but  I 
prevented  him  from  doing  it,  thinking  we  should  soon 
meet  with  more  charitable  people.  But  in  this  I  was 
much  mistaken  ;  for  we  did  not  see  even  a  solitary  hut. 
The  roads  were  execrable,  and  the  horses  could  hardly 
move.  My  children,  starving  from  hunger,  grew  pale, 
and  for  the  first  time  lost  their  spirits.  Captain  Edmon- 
stone,  deeply  affected  at  this,  went  about  asking  some- 


FREDERICA    DE    RIEDESEL.  135 

thing  for  the  children ;  and  received  at  last  from  one  of 
the  wagoners  who  transported  our  baggage,  a  piece  of 
stale  bread,  of  three  ounces  weight,  upon  which  many 
a  tooth  had  already  exercised  its  strength.  Yet  to  my 
children  it  was  at  this  time  a  delicious  morsel.  I  broke 
it,  and  was  about  giving  the  first  piece  to  the  youngest, 
but  she  said,  '  No,  mamma ;  my  sisters  are  more  in 
wrant  of  it  than  I  am.'  The  two  eldest  girls,  with  no 
less  generosity,  thought  that  little  Caroline  was  to  have 
the  first  piece.  I  then  distributed  to  each  her  small 
portion.  Tears  ran  down  my  cheeks;  and  had  I  ever 
refused  to  the  poor  a  piece  of  bread,  I  should  have 
thought  retributive  justice  had  overtaken  me.  Captain 
Edmonstone,  who  was  much  affected,  presented  the 
generous  wagoner  who  had  given  us  his  last  morsel, 
with  a  guinea ;  and  when  we  were  arrived  at  our  place 
of  destination,  we  provided  him,  besides,  with  bread  for 
a  part  of  his  journey  homewards." 

The  place  of  their  destination  was  Colle,  in  Virginia, 
where  General  Riedesel,  who  had  advanced  with  the 
troops,  already  expected  them  with  impatient  anxiety. 
This  was  about  the  middle  of  February,  1779.  They 
had  passed,  in  the  journey,  through  the  States  of  Con 
necticut,  New  York,  New  Jersey,  Pennsylvania,  and 
Maryland ;  and  in  about  three  months  had  travelled 
six  hundred  and  twenty-eight  miles.  They  hired  a 
house  belonging  to  an  Italian  who  was  about  leaving 
the  country.  The  troops  were  at  Charlottesville,  three 
hours'  ride  distant — the  road  thither  running  through  a 
fine  wood. 


136  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

The  life  of  Madame  de  Riedesel  and  her  family  in 
Virginia  was  not  an  unhappy  one,  though  they  suffered 
from  the  heat  during  the  summer.  The  General  was 
brought  home  one  day  with  a  coup  de  soleil,  which  for 
years  afterwards  affected  his  health.  His  physician  and 
acquaintances  advised  him  to  go  to  Frederic  Springs. 
It  was  there  that  he  and  his  wife  became  acquainted 
with  General  Washington's  family,  and  with  some  other 
amiable  persons  attached  to  the  American  cause. 

While  at  Frederic  Springs.  General  Riedesel  re 
ceived  the  news  that  he  and  General  Phillips,  with  their 
aids-de-camp,  were  expected  in  New  York,  where 
they  were  to  be  exchanged  for  American  prisoners. 
He  returned  to  Colle,  to  place  the  troops  during  his 
absence,  under  the  care  of  Colonel  Specht.  In  August, 
1779,  the  Baroness  left  the  Springs  to  join  her  husband 
in  Pennsylvania,  stopping  near  Baltimore  to  pay  a  visit 
to  one  of  the  ladies  with  whom,  though  of  opposite 
political  opinions,  she  had  formed  a  friendship  at  the 
Springs.  This  visit  was  a  charming  episode  in  the 
troubled  life  of  Madame  de  Riedesel.  She  remembered 
long  after,  with  gratitude,  the  hospitality  and  kindness 
received.  "  The  loyalists,"  she  says,  "  received  us  with 
frank  hospitality,  from  political  sympathy  ;  and  those  of 
opposite  principles  gave  us  a  friendly  welcome,  merely 
from  habit ;  for  in  that  country  it  would  be  con 
sidered  a  crime  to  behave  otherwise  towards  stran 
gers." 

At  Elizabethtown  they  met  with  many  friends  to 
their  cause.  They  were  exulting  in  the  anticipation 


FREDERICA    DE    RIEDESEL.  137 

of  an  exchange,  and  restoration  to  freedom,  when  an 
officer  arrived,  commissioned  by  Washington  to  deliver 
to  General  Phillips  a  letter  containing  an  order  to  re 
turn  to  Virginia — Congress  having  rejected  the  proposal 
of  a  cartel.  The  disappointment  was  excessive,  but 
unavoidable  ;  and  after  a  day's  halt,  they  commenced 
their  journey  back.  On  reaching  Bethlehem,  the  two 
Generals,  Riedesel  and  Phillips,  obtained  permission  to 
remain  there  till  the  difficulties  respecting  the  cartel 
should  be  removed.  Their  bill,  after  six  weeks'  lodg 
ing  for  the  party,  with  the  care  of  their  horses,  amount 
ed  to  thirty-two  thousand  dollars  in  paper  money,  cor 
responding  to  about  four  hundred  guineas  in  specie.  A 
traveller  who  bought  silver  coin,  gave  them  eighty  dol 
lars  in  paper  money  for  every  dollar  in  silver,  and  thus 
enabled  them  to  leave  the  place,  when  at  last  permitted 
to  go  to  New  York. 

Arrived  at  New  York,  a  soldier  went  before  the 
travellers  "  from  the  gate  of  the  city,"  to  show  the  way 
to  their  lodging.  This  proved  to  be  the  house  of  the 
Governor,  General  Tryon,  where  the  Baroness  made 
herself  at  home  with  her  children  and  attendants,  under 
the  belief  that  they  had  been  conducted  to  a  hotel.  She 
received  visits  here  from  General  Patterson,  the  Com 
mandant  of  the  city ;  and  also  from  Generals  Corn- 
wallis  and  Clinton  ;  and  had  a  romantic  introduction  to 
her  host,  who  did  not  announce  his  name  at  the  first 
visit,  nor  till  she  had  expressed  a  wish  to  become  per 
sonally  acquainted  with  him. 

Madame  de  Riedesel  went  from  the  city  to  Genera, 


138  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

Clinton's  country-seat,  a  mile  distant,  where  her  chil 
dren  were  innoculated  for  the  small-pox.  When  the 
danger  of  infection  was  over,  they  returned  and  spent 
the  winter  in  New  York.  The  charming  country-seat 
was  again  their  residence  in  the  summer  of  1780. 
The  situation  was  uncommonly  beautiful ;  around  the 
house  were  meadows  and  orchards,  with  the  Hudson  at 
their  feet ;  and  they  had  abundance  of  delicious  fruit. 
General  Clinton  visited  them  frequently,  and  the  last 
time  was  accompanied  by  Major  Andre,  the  day  before 
he  set  out  on  his  fatal  expedition. 

The  breaking  out  of  a  malignant  fever,  which  made 
dreadful  ravages  in  the  city  and  neighborhood,  dis 
turbed  their  pleasure.  In  the  house  no  less  than  twenty 
were  laboring  under  the  disease.  The  Baron  himself 
was  dangerously  ill ;  and  the  cares  and  nursing  devolved 
on  his  wife,  who  was  worn  oat  with  anxiety.  "  We 
were  one  day,"  she  says,  "  in  anxious  expectation  of 
our  physician  from  New  York,  my  husband's  symptoms 
having  become  of  late  more  and  more  threatening.  He 
was  continually  in  a  lethargic  stupor,  and  when  I  pre 
sented  him  the  sago  water,  which  the  physician  had 
ordered  for  him,  he  turned  round,  desiring  me  to  let 
him  die  quietly.  He  thought  his  end  must  be  near. 
The  physician  having  entered  the  room  at  that  mo 
ment,  I  urgently  begged  him  to  tell  me  the  truth,  and  to 
let  me  know  if  there  was  any  hope  of  my  husband's 
recovery.  He  had  scarcely  said  '  Yes,''  when  my  chil 
dren,  on  hearing  this  merciful  word,  sprang  from  under 
a  table  where  they  had  lain  concealed  in  dreadful  ex- 


FREDERICA    DE    RIEDESEL.  139 

pectation  of  the  doctor's  sentence,  threw  themselves  at 
his  feet,  and  kissed  his  hands  with  rapturous  feelings 
of  gratitude.  Nobody  could  have  witnessed  the  scene 
without  sharing  my  deep  emotion."  *  *  "  Out  of 
thirty  persons  of  whom  our  family  consisted,  ten  only 
escaped  the  disease.  It  is  astonishing  how  much  the 
frail  human  creature  can  endure  ;  and  I  am  amazed 
that  I  survived  such  hard  trials.  My  happy  tempera 
ment  permitted  me  even  to  be  gay  and  cheerful,  when 
ever  my  hopes  were  encouraged.  The  best  health  is 
often  undermined  by  such  sufferings  ;  still  I  rejoice  to 
think  I  had  it  in  my  power  to  be  useful  to  those  who 
are  dearest  to  me  ;  and  that  without  my  exertions,  I 
might  have  lost  those  who  now  contribute  so  much  to 
my  felicity.  At  length  all  my  patients  were  cured." 

In  the  autumn  Generals  Phillips  and  Riedesel  were 
exchanged ;  although  the  rest  of  the  army  who  surrender 
ed  at  Saratoga  still  remained  prisoners.  General 
Clinton  wished  to  replace  the  Baron  in  active  service, 
and  appointed  him  Lieutenant  General,  investing  him 
with  the  command  at  Long  Island.  A  second  danger 
ous  attack  of  fever  so  impaired  his  health,  that  the 
physicians  thought  he  could  never  recover  as  long  as  he 
resided  in  that  climate.  But  he  would  not  leave  the 
army,  nor  ask  a  furlough. 

In  the  following  spring,  the  Baroness  was  established 
on  Long  Island.  Her  husband's  health  mended  slowly ; 
and  his  thoughts  being  often  fixed  on  the  remnant  of  his 
late  regiments,  which  had  remained  in  Canada,  General 
Clinton  at  length  consented  that  he  should  pay  them  a 


140  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

visit.  Being  about  to  depart  in  July,  Madame  de 
Riedesel  sent  the  residue  of  their  wood — about  thirty 
cords — to  some  poor  families,  and  took  but  a  few  articles 
of  furniture,  returning  the  rest  to  the  commissary  of 
the  army.  They  at  last  embarked  for  Canada,  and 
reached  Quebec  after  a  journey  of  about  two  months, 
in  September,  1781. 

Madame  de  Riedesel  gives  a  pleasing  description  of 
her  life  in  Canada,  which  seems  to  have  been  very 
agreeable.  She  had  an  opportunity  of  observing  the 
habits  of  the  Indians,  some  of  whom  were  under  her 
husband's  command.  Before  she  joined  him  on  her 
first  arrival  in  Canada,  one  of  the  savages,  having  heard 
that  M.  de  Riedesel  was  ill,  that  he  was  married,  and 
felt  uneasy  on  account  of  the  delay  in  his  wife's  arrival, 
came  with  his  own  wife,  and  said  to  the  General ;  "  I 
love  my  wife — but  I  love  thee  also ;  in  proof  of  which  I 
give  her  to  thee."  The  Indian  seemed  distressed  and 
almost  offended  at  the  refusal  of  his  gift.  It  is  some 
what  remarkable  that  this  man  was  by  birth  a  German, 
who  had  been  taken  prisoner  by  the  savages  when 
about  fifteen  years  of  age. 

In  the  summer  of  1783,  the  General  having  received 
news  of  the  death  of  his  father,  became  impatient  to 
return  to  Europe.  They  made  all  necessary  arrange 
ments  for  the  voyage,  and  after  the  troops  had  embarked, 
were  accompanied  by  many  of  their  friends  to  the 
vessel. 

General  and  Madame  de  Riedesel  were  graciously 
received  by  the  king  and  queen  of  Great  Britain 


FREDERICA    DE    RIEDESEL.  141 

when  they  reached  London.  Their  return  to  Germany 
was  welcomed  by  their  old  friends  and  acquaintance ; 
and  the  fair  traveller  rejoiced  on  seeing  her  husband 
once  more  "  standing  in  the  midst  of  his  soldiers,  and  a 
multitude  of  parents,  wives,  children,  brothers  and 
sisters,  who  either  rejoiced  at  meeting  again  their 
relatives  who  had  been  so  long  absent,  or  mourned 
over  the  loss  of  those  who  had  been  long  missed  and 
expected." 

It  is  to  be  presumed  that  the  after  life  of  one  who 
possessed  a  spirit  so  generous  and  cheerful,  was  happy. 
The  record  of  her  sojourn  in  America  impresses  the 
reader  with  feelings  of  admiration  and  esteem  for  her. 
Such  details  have  a  value  beyond  that  of  a  mere  narration 
of  facts ;  they  illustrate  character,  and  add  the  warm  color 
ing  of  life  to  the  outlines  of  history.  They  afford  light 
by  which  we  can  more  clearly  read  the  great  lessons  in 
the  story  of  battle  and  victory.  In  the  midst  of  our 
enthusiasm  for  the  achievement  of  Saratoga,  we  do  not 
lose  pity  for  the  disasters  that  accompanied  the  triumph. 
We  see  courtesy  and  humanity  prevailing  in  the  midst 
of  the  strife,  and  honor  both  the  opposing  principles  of 
loyalty  and  patriotism.  "  If  the  figures  of  the  picture 
are  at  first  fierce  and  repulsive — the  figures  of  brethren 
armed  against  brethren,  of  mercenary  Germans  and 
frantic  savages,  Canadian  rangers  and  American  plough 
men,  all  bristling  together  with  the  horrid  front  of  war 
—what  a  charm  of  contrast  is  presented,  when  among 
these  stern  and  forbidding  groups  is  beheld  the  form  of 
a  Christian  woman  moving  to  and  fro,  disarming  the 


142  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

heart  of  every  emotion  but  reverence,  softening  the 
misfortunes  of  defeat,  and  checking  the  elation  of 
victory !" 

After  the  death  of  General  Riedesel,  in  1800,  the 
Baroness  fixed  her  residence  at  Berlin,  where  she  died, 
on  the  29th  of  March,  1808.  She  established  here 
an  asylum  for  military  orphans,  and  an  alms-house  for 
the  poor  in  Brunswick. 

She  was  long  remembered,  with  her  interesting  family, 
in  Virginia,  as  well  as  in  other  parts  of  the  continent. 
She  is  described  as  full  in  figure,  and  possessing  no 
small  share  of  beauty.  Some  of  her  foreign  habits 
rendered  her  rather  conspicuous ;  such  as  riding  in 
boots,  and  in  what  was  then  called,  "  the  European 
fashion  ;"  and  she  was  sometimes  charged  with  careless 
ness  in  her  attire.  She  was  visited  by  many  families 
in  the  neighborhood  of  Charlottesville. 


IX. 


DOROTHY    HANCOCK. 

MRS.  HANCOCK  was  one  of  those  who,  at  Cambridge, 
extended  courtesies  to  the  ladies  of  Burgoyne's  army, 
when  under  the  convention  of  surrender.  She  was  the 
daughter  of  Edmund  Quincy,  of  Massachusetts,  and 
was  born  in  1750.  At  the  age  of  twenty-four  she  was 
married  to  one  of  the  greatest  men  of  the  age.  The 
honor  that  encircled  the  name  of  John  Hancock, 
received  added  lustre  from  the  fair  partner  of  his 
fortunes.  Moving  in  the  best  circles  of  society,  and  a 
leader  in  taste  and  fashion,  she  filled  her  illustrious 
station  with  dignity,  and  dispensed  with  grace  the 
hospitalities  of  her  house.  There  might  be  seen  at  her 
table  all  classes ;  the  grave  clergy,  the  veteran  and  the 
gay — and  the  gifted  in  song,  or  anecdote,  or  wit.  The 
social  customs  of  the  day  savored  of  profusion.  It 
was  a  practice  in  families  of  respectability,  to  have  a 
tankard  of  punch  made  in  the  morning,  of  which  visitors 
during  the  day  were  invited  to  partake.  Dinners  and 
suppers  were  frequently  interchanged  :  and  the  tables 
were  loaded  with  provision.  The  dinner  hour  was  at 
one  or  two  o'clock  ;  and  three  was  the  latest  for  formal 


144  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

occasions.  The  evening  amusement  was  usually  a  game 
at  cards  ;  and  dancing  was  much  in  vogue.  There 
were  concerts ;  but  theatrical  amusements  were  pro 
hibited.  Much  attention  was  paid  to  dress  ;  and  coats 
various  in  color  were  worn. 

Mrs.  Hancock  was  not  only  admirable  in  the  pleasing 
duties  of  mistress  of  her  household,  but  in  hours  of 
disease  and  pain  soothed  her  husband  and  calmed  his 
sensitive  and  irritable  temper.  She  had  her  share,  too, 
in  the  terrors  and  dangers  of  the  war.  When  the 
British  made  their  attack  at  Lexington  and  Concord, 
she  was  at  the  latter  place  with  Mr.  Hancock,  and  fled 
with  him  to  Woburn.  Many  a  scene  of  Revolutionary 
days,  in  which  she  was  herself  an  actor  or  a  spectator, 
she  was  accustomed  to  depict  in  after  years.  She  would 
often  describe  the  appearance  and  manners  of  the 
British  officers  who  had  been  quartered  in  Boston, 
dwelling  particularly  on  the  military  virtue  of  Earl 
Percy,  who  slept  in  a  tent  among  his  soldiers  encamped 
on  the  Common  in  the  winter  of  1774-5,  and  whose 
voice  could  be  heard  at  the  dawn  of  day,  drilling  his 
troops. 

During  the  life  of  her  husband,  Mrs.  Hancock  was 
of  necessity  much  in  the  gay  world,  in  which  she  occu 
pied  a  position  so  distinguished.  After  his  death  she 
married  Captain  Scott,  with  whom  she  passed  a  less 
brilliant,  yet  not  a  less  happy  life.  Her  later  years 
were  spent  in  seclusion.  She  was  still,  however,  sur 
rounded  by  friends  who  were  instructed  and  charmed 
by  her  superior  mind,  and  cheerful  conversation.  She 


SARAH    HULL.  145 

went  but  little  into  society,  and  whenever  she  appeared, 
was  received  with  great  attention.  La  Fayette,  on  his 
visit  to  this  country,  called  upon  her,  and  many  spoke 
of  the  interesting  interview  witnessed  between  "the 
once  youthful  chevalier  and  the  splendid  belle." 

She  died  in  her  seventy-eighth  year.  Several  anec 
dotes  are  told  of  her  sprightliness,  good  sense,  and 
benevolence,  but  unfortunately  cannot  be  obtained  in  a 
form  sufficiently  authentic  for  this  sketch. 


SARAH  HULL,  the  wife  of  Major  William  Hull,  was 
one  of  those  women  who  followed  their  husbands  to 
the  camp,  resolved  to  partake  their  dangers  and  priva 
tions.  She  was  with  the  army  at  Saratoga,  and  joined 
the  other  American  ladies  in  kind  and  soothing  atten 
tions  to  the  fair  captives  after  the  surrender.  She  was 
the  daughter  of  Judge  Fuller,  of  Newton,  Massachu 
setts,  and  was  born  about  1755.  At  the  close  of  the 
war  she  returned  home  ;  and  when  her  gallant  husband 
was  appointed  general  of  the  county  militia,  did  the 
honors  of  his  marquee,  and  received  guests  of  distinc 
tion  with  a  grace,  dignity,  and  affability  that  attracted 
general  admiration.  For  several  years  General  Hull 
held  the  office  of  Governor  of  Michigan  Territory. 
In  her  eminent  station,  Mrs.  Hull  displayed  so  much 
good  sense,  with  more  brilliant  accomplishments,  that 
she  improved  the  state  of  society  in  her  neighborhood, 
without  provoking  envy  by  her  superiority.  The  influ- 
en.ce  of  a  strong  intellect,  with  cultivated  taste  and 
7 


146  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

refinement,  presided  in  her  circle.  Those  who  visited 
the  wild  country  about  them  found  a  generous  wel 
come  at  her  hospitable  mansion,  and  departed  with  ad 
miring  recollections  of  her  and  her  daughters. 

But  it  was  in  the  cloud  of  misfortune  that  the  energy 
of  Mrs.  Hull's  character  was  most  clearly  shown.  Gov 
ernor  Hull  having  been  appointed  Major  General  in  the 
war  of  1812,  met  with  disasters  which  compelled  his 
surrender,  and  subjected  him  to  suspicions  of  treason. 
His  protracted  trial  and  his  defence  belong  to  history. 
His  wife  sustained  these  evils  with  a  trustful  serenity, 
hoping  that  the  day  would  yet  come  when  all  doubts 
should  be  cleared  away,  and  her  husband  restored  to 
public  confidence.  The  loss  of  her  son  in  battle  was 
borne  with  the  same  Christian  fortitude.  Her  quiet, 
calm  demeanor  exhibited  no  trace  of  the  suffering  that 
had  wrung  her  heart.  She  lived  to  see  her  hopes 
realized  in  the  General's  complete  vindication  ;  and  died 
in  1826,  in  less  than  a  year  from  his  decease, 


X. 


HARRIET    ACKLAND. 

THE  story  of  female  heroism,  fidelity,  and  piety,  with 
which  the  name  of  Lady  Harriet  Ackland  is  associated, 
is  familiar  to  the  readers  of  American  history.  To  the 
fairer  page  where  such  examples  of  virtue  are  recorded, 
we  delight  to  turn  from  the  details  of  military  achieve 
ment.  The  presence  that  shed  radiance  on  the  sunny 
days  of  hope  and  success,  relieved  and  brightened  the 
season  of  disaster.  Her  offices  of  mediation  softened 
the  bitterness  of  political  animosity.  The  benevolent 
and  conciliating  efforts  are  known  by  which  this  heroine 
endeavored  to  settle  differences  that  arose  between  the 
captive  British  soldiers  and  their  conquerors,  at  the 
time  the  troops  were  quartered  at  Cambridge  after  the 
surrender. 

Lady  Harriet  was  the  wife  of  Major  Ackland,  an 
officer  in  Burgoyne's  army.  She  accompanied  him  to 
Canada  in  1776,  and  in  the  disastrous  campaign  of  the 
following  year,  from  Canada,  to  Saratoga.  Beautiful 
and  admired  as  she  was,  and  accustomed  to  all  the 
luxuries  and  refinements  incident  to  rank  and  fortune, 
her  delicate  frame  ill  calculated  to  sustain  the  various 


148  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

hardships  to  be  undergone,  she  yet  shrank  not  from  her 
husband's  perils  and  privations  in  traversing  the  dreary 
wilderness.  When  he  lay  ill  at  Chambly,  in  a  miser 
able  hut,  her  attention  was  assiduous,  in  defiance  of 
fatigue  and  discomfort.  When  he  was  wounded  at 
Hubbardton,  she  hastened  from  Montreal,  where  she 
had  been  at  first  persuaded  to  remain,  and  crossed  Lake 
Champlain,  resolved  .to  leave  him  no  more.  Her  vehicle 
of  conveyance  on  the  march  of  the  army,  was  part  of 
the  time  a  small'  two-wheeled  tumbril,  drawn  by  a  single 
horse,  over  roads  almost  impassable.  The  women  fol 
lowed  in  the  rear  of  the  artillery  and  baggage;  but 
heard  all  the  uproar  in  encounters  with  the  enemy. 

On  the  advance  of  the  army  to  Fort  Edward,  the 
tent  in  which  Lady  Ackland  lodged  took  fire,  the  light 
being  pushed  over  by  a  pet  Newfoundland  dog ;  and 
she  and  her  husband  made  their  escape  with  the  utmost 
difficulty.  But  no  hazards  dissuaded  the  wife  from  her 
purpose.  She  was  not  only  the  ministering  angel  of 
him  she  loved  so  devotedly,  but  won  the  admiration  of 
the  army  by  her  amiable  deportment ;  continually  mak 
ing  little  presents  to  the  officers  belonging  to  his  corps, 
whenever  she  had  any  thing  among  her  stores  worth 
acceptance  ;  and  receiving  in  return  every  kind  atten 
tion  which  could  mitigate  the  hardships  she  had  daily 
to  encounter.* 

In  the  decisive  action  of  the  seventh  of  October, 
Lady  Ackland  was  again  in  the  tumult  of  battle.  Dur- 

*  Burgoyne's  Campaign ;  Thacher^s  Military  Journal ;  and  other 
authorities. 


HARRIET    ACKLAND.  149 

ing  the  heat  of  the  conflict,  tortured  by  anxiety,  she 
took  refuge  among  the  wounded  and  dying.  Her  hus 
band,  commanding  the  grenadiers,  was  in  the  most 
exposed  part  of  the  battle,  and  she  awaited  his  fate  in 
awful  suspense.  The  Baroness  Riedesel,  and  the  wives 
of  two  other  field  officers,  were  her  companions  in  ap 
prehension.  One  of  the  officers  was  brought  in  wounded, 
and  the  death  of  the  other  was  announced.  In  the 
midst  of  the  heart-rending  scenes  that  followed,  intel 
ligence  came  that  the  British  army  was  defeated,  and 
that  Major  Ackland  was  desperately  wounded  and  a 
prisoner. 

The  unhappy  lady,  sustained  by  the  counsels  of  her 
friend  the  Baroness,  determined  to  join  her  husband  in 
the  American  camp.  She  sent  a  message  to  General 
Burgoyne,  through  his  aid-de-camp,  Lord  Petersham,  to 
ask  permission  to  depart.  The  British  commander  was 
astonished  at  this  application.  He  was  ready  to  believe 
patience  and  fortitude  most  brightly  displayed  in  the 
female  character ;  but  he  could  hardly  understand  the 
courage  of  a  woman,  who  after  suffering  so  long  the 
agitation  of  suspense,  exhausted  by  want  of  rest  and 
want  of  food,  was  ready  to  brave  the  darkness  of  night 
and  the  drenching  rain  for  many  hours,  and  to  deliver 
herself  to  the  enemy,  uncertain  into  what  hands  she 
might  fall !  "  The  assistance  I  was  able  to  give,"  he 
says,  "  was  small  indeed.  I  had  not  even  a  cup  of  wine 
to  offer  her.  All  I  could  furnish  was  an  open  boat,  and 
a  few  lines  written  on  dirty  and  wet  paper  to  General 
Gates,  recommending  her  to  his  protection." 


150  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

How  picturesque  is  the  grouping  of  scenes  we  have 
at  this  point,  and  how  do  woman's  strength  of  character 
and  ardent  affection  shine  amid  the  surrounding  gloom ! 
The  army  on  its  retreat — the  sick  and  wounded  aban 
doned  to  the  mercy  of  the  victors — the  state  of  confusion 
following  disasters  so  fatal  to  British  power — the  defeated 
general  appealing  in  behalf  of  the  suffering  wife,  by  his 
tribute,  written  in  haste  and  agitation,  to  her  grace  and 
excellence,  and  his  expression  of  compassion  for  her  hard 
fortune — and  her  own  forgetful  ness  of  danger,  in  hasten 
ing  to  her  husband's  aid ! 

She  obtained  from  the  wife  of  a  soldier  the  refresh 
ment  of  a  little  spirits  and  water,  and  set  out  in  an  open 
boat,  accompanied  by  the  British  chaplain  Brudenell, 
her  own  waiting-maid,  and  her  husband's  valet,  who 
had  been  severely  wounded  in  the  search  for  his  mas 
ter  when  first  missing  from  the  field  of  battle.  They 
went  down  the  river  during  a  violent  storm  of  rain  and 
wind,  and  arrived  at  the  American  out-posts  in  the 
night,  having  suffered  much  from  wet  and  cold.  The 
sentinel  of  the  advance-guard  heard  the  sound  of  oars, 
and  hailed  the  boat.  What  must  have  been  his  surprise 
to  hear  that  a  woman  had  braved  the  storm  on  such  an 
errand!  He  sent  for  Major  Dearborn,  the  officer  of 
the  guard,  before  he  would  permit  the  passengers  to 
land.  Major  Dearborn  invited  Lady  Ackland  to  his 
guard-house,  offered  her  a  cup  of  tea,  and  every  accom 
modation  in  his  power,  and  gave  her  the  welcome  intel 
ligence  of  her  husband's  safety.  In  the  morning  she 
experienced  the  kindness  of  General  Gate?,  who  treated 


HARRIET    ACKLAND.  151 

her  with  the  tenderness  of  a  parent,  bestowing  every 
attention  which  her  sex  and  circumstances  required. 
She  was  conveyed,  under  a  suitable  escort,  to  the 
quarters  of  General  Poor  on  the  heights,  to  her  wounded 
husband ;  and  there  remained  till  he  was  taken  to  Al 
bany.  Her  resolution,  and  devotion  to  him,  touched 
the  feelings  of  the  Americans,  and  won  the  admiration 
of  all  who  heard  her  story. 

It  is  related  that  Major  Ackland  showed  his  sense  of 
the  generous  treatment  he  had  received,  by  doing  all  in 
his  power,  while  in  New  York  on  parole,  to  alleviate 
the  condition  of  American  prisoners  of  distinction. 
After  his  return  to  England,  he  lost  his  life  in  defence 
of  American  honor.  At  a  dinner  of  military  gentle 
men,  a  Lieutenant  Lloyd  threw  out  sneering  remarks 
upon  the  alleged  cowardice  of  the  American  troops. 
This  was  an  indirect  aspersion  on  the  bravery  of  the 
unfortunate  officers  who  had  been  taken  captive  with 
Burgoyne's  army,  and  was  felt  and  resented  by  Major 
Ackland.  High  words  ensued,  and  a  duel  was  the  con 
sequence,  in  which  Ackland  fell  at  the  first  fire.  The 
shock  of  his  death  deprived  Lady  Harriet  of  reason, 
and  she  remained  two  years  in  that  sad  condition. 
After  her  recovery  she  quitted  the  gay  world,  and  gave 
her  hand  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Brudenell,  who  had  accom 
panied  her  on  that  gloomy  night  «to  the  camp  of  Gen 
eral  Gates.  She  survived  him  many  years,  and  died  at 
an  advanced  age. 


152  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

THE  narrative  of  that  celebrated  campaign  contains 
an  anecdote  of  female  compassion  which,  though  not 
connected  with  the  subject  of  this  notice,  may  be  properly 
mentioned  here. 

"  Colonel  Cochran  having  been  sent  to  Canada  as  a 
spy,  his  mission  was  suspected,  and  a  large  bounty 
offered  for  his  head.  While  there  he  was  taken  sick, 
and  knowing  that  he  was  suspected,  concealed  himself 
for  a  few  days  in  a  brush*  heap,  within  about  two  miles 
of  the  American  lines,  unable  to  make  his  escape,  or 
even  to  walk.  Having  suffered  much  from  his  sickness 
and  want  of  nourishment,  and  having  discovered  a  log 
cabin  at  considerable  distance  from  the  spot  where  he 
was  concealed,  the  only  one  in  sight,  he  crept  to  it  on 
his  hands  and  knees,  for  the  purpose  of  soliciting  assis 
tance.  On  his  approach  to  the  rear' of  the  cabin,  he 
heard  three  men  in  earnest  conversation  ;  and  it  happen 
ed  that  he  was  the  subject  of  their  discourse.  Having 
heard  of  the  heavy  bounty  offered  for  the  Colonel,  and 
having  seen  a  man  in  the  vicinity  a  few  days  before, 
answering  the  description  of  him,  they  were  forming 
their  plans,  and  expressing  their  determination  to  find 
his  whereabouts,  and  take  him  for  the  sake  of  the 
bounty.  One  of  the  men  was  the  owner  of  the  cabin. 
His  wife  was  also  present ;  and  the  others  were  his 
brother  and  brother-in-law.  Soon  after  this  conversa 
tion,  the  three  men  departed  in  pursuit.  He  crept  into 
the  cabin,  and  frankly  told  the  woman,  who  seemed 
favorably  impressed  towards  him  on  account  of  his 


HARRIET    ACKLAND.  153 

almost  helpless  condition,  that  he  had  overheard  the 
conversation ;  that  he  was  the  man  of  whom  they  were 
in  search ;  and  that  he  should  throw  himself  entirely 
upon  her  mercy,  trusting  to  her  fidelity  for  protection. 
This  she  very  kindly  promised  him  to  the  utmost  of 
her  ability.  Having  received  some  restoratives,  which 
seemed  to  give  relief,  and  taken  suitable  nourish 
ment,  he  lay  .  down  on  a  bed  in  the  room  for  the 
purpose  of  taking  some  repose.  After  the  men  had 
been  absent  about  three  hours,  they  returned ;  when  she 
concealed  him  in  a  closet  by  the  side  of  the  fire-place, 
and  shut  the  door,  taking  good  care  while  the  men 
were  in  the  house,  to  keep  near  it,  that  if  any  thing 
should  be  wanted  from  within,  she  might  be  ready  to 
get  it  herself.  During  the  time  the  men  were  in  the 
cabin,  they  expressed  much  confidence  in  the  belief 
that  the  Colonel  was  concealed  somewhere  in  the 
vicinity,  and  named  many  places  in  which  they  intend 
ed  to  look  for  him.  Having  taken  some  food,  and 
otherwise  prepared  themselves,  the  men  departed  to 
renew  their  search. 

"  Soon  after  they  retired,  the  woman,  not  consider 
ing  the  Colonel's  present  situation  safe,  proposed  that 
he  should  conceal  himself  at  some  distance  from  the 
cabin,  where  she  might  secretly  bring  him  food,  and 
render  such  other  assistance  as  he  needed.  She  accor 
dingly  directed  him  to  take  post  on  a  certain  hill  about 
half  a  mile  distant,  where  he  might  be  able  to  discover 
any  person's  approach,  and  to  flee,  if  he  was  able, 
should  it  become  necessary.  He  manifested  an  incli- 


154  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

nation  to  resume  his  former  position  in  the  brush  heap, 
which  was  in  the  midst  of  a  patch  of  ground  that  had 
been  cut  over  for  a  fallow ;  but  she  told  him  her  husband 
intended  to  burn  it  the  next  day,  and  in  that  case  he 
would  certainly  be  discovered,  or  perish  in  the  confla 
gration.  He  then  submitted  entirely  to  her  directions ; 
and  crept  along  to  the  hill  in  the  best  way  he  could. 
He  remained  sometime  in  this  place  of  concealment, 
undiscovered  by  any  one  except  this  faithful  Rahab  of 
the  forest,  who  like  a  good  Samaritan,  poured  in  the  oil 
and  wine,  until  his  strength  was  in  a  measure  restored, 
and  he  was  enabled  to  return  to  his  country  and  his 
home. 

"Some  years  after  the  close  of  the  war,  and  while 
the  Colonel  lived  at  Ticonderoga,  he  accidentally  met 
with  this  kind-hearted  woman,  whose  name  I  have  not 
bee-n  able  to  ascertain,  and  rewarded  her  handsomely 
for  her  fidelity." 


XL 


HANNAH    ERWIN    ISRAEL. 

ABOUT  the  close  of  the  year  1777,  while  the  com- 
mander-in-chief  of  the  British  forces  was  in  possession 
of  Philadelphia,  a  foot  passenger  might  have  been  seen 
on  the  road  leading  from  Wilmington  to  that  city.  He 
was  a  young  man  of  tall  figure  and  powerful  frame, 
giving  evidence  of  great  muscular  strength,  to  which  a 
walk  of  over  thirty  miles,  under  ordinary  circumstances, 
would  be  a  trifle.  But  the  features  of  the  traveller 
were  darkened  by  anxiety  and  apprehension  ;  and  it 
was  more  the  overtasking  of  the  mind  than  the  body 
which  occasioned  the  weariness  and  lassitude  under 
which  he  was  plainly  laboring.  His  dress  was  that  of 
a  simple  citizen,  and  he  was  enveloped  in  a  large  cloak, 
affording  ample  protection  against  the  severity  of  the 
weather,  as  well  as  serving  to  conceal  sundry  parcels 
of  provisions,  and  a  bag  of  money,  with  which 
he  was  laden.  It  was  long  after  dark  before  he 
reached  the  ferry;  but  renewed  hope  and  confidence 
filled  his  heart  as  he  approached  the  termination  of  his 
journey. 


156  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION 

Sir  William  Howe,  it  will  be  remembered,  had  entered 
the  capital  towards  the  end  of  September,  after  much 
manoeuvring  and  several  battles — Washington  having 
made  ineffectual  efforts  to  prevent  the  accomplishment 
of  his  object.  He  was  received  with  a  welcome, 
apparently  cordial,  by  the  timid  or  interested  citizens. 
His  first  care  was  to  reduce  the  fortifications  on  the 
Delaware,  and  remove  the  obstructions  prepared  by  the 
Americans  to  prevent  the  British  fleet  from  ascending 
the  river.  While  Fort  Mifflin  at  Mud  Island,  and 
Fort  Mercer  at  Red  Bank,  were  occupied  by  their 
garrisons,  he  could  have  no  communication  with  his 
fleet,  and  was  in  danger  of  being  speedily  compelled 
to  evacuate  the  city.  Count  Donop,  detached  with 
the  Hessian  troops  to  *  take  possession  of  the  fort  at 
Red  Bank,  was  repulsed  and  mortally  wounded.  The 
invader's  fortune,  however,  triumphed ;  and  the  Ameri 
cans  were  finally  driven  from  their  posts.  Their  water 
force  was  compelled  to  retire  from  the  fire  of  the 
batteries ;  and  the  British  at  length  gained  free  com 
munication,  by  way  of  the  Delaware,  between  their 
army  and  the  shipping.  Thus  the  reverses  in  New 
Jersey  and  Pennsylvania  had  cast  a  gloom  over  the 
country,  which  could  not  be  altogether  dispelled  even 
by  the  brilliant  victories  of  Saratoga  and  the  capture 
of  Burgoyne  and  his  army.  The  condition  of  the 
American  army,  when  it  retired  into  winter  quarters  at 
Valley  Forge,  was  deplorable  enough  to  change  hope 
into  despair,  and  presented  truly  a  spectacle  unparalleled 


HANNAH    ERWIN    ISRAEL.  157 

in  history.  "Absolute  destitution  held  high  court ;  and 
never  was  the  chivalric  heroism  of  patriotic  suffering 
more  tangibly  manifested  than  by  that  patriot-band 
within  those  frail  log  huts  that  barely  covered  them  from 
the  falling  snow,  or  sheltered  them  from  the  keen  wintry 
blasts."  This  privation  of  necessary  food  and  clothing 
during  one  of  the  most  rigorous  winters  ever  experi 
enced  in  the  country — this  misery — the  detail  of  which 
is  too  familiar  to  need  repetition,  was  endured  by  the 
continental  soldiers  at  the  same  time  that  the  English 
in  the  metropolis  were  revelling  in  unrestrained  luxury 
and  indulgence.*  Many  whig  families,  meanwhile, 
who  remained  in  Philadelphia,  plundered  and  insulted 
by  the  soldiers,  wanted  the  comforts  of  life,  and  received 
assistance  clandestinely  from  their  friends  at  a  distance. 

To  return  to  our  narrative.  When  the  traveller 
arrived  at  the  ferry,  he  was  promptly  hailed  by  the  sen 
tinel,  with  "  Who  goes  there  ?" 

"  A  friend/'  was  the  reply. 

"  The  countersign !" 

The  countersign  for  the  night  was  promptly  given. 

*  Marshall's  MS.  Journal  says,— December  28th,  1777,  "Our 
affairs  wear  a  very  gloomy  aspect.  Great  part  of  our  army  gone  into 
winter  quarters ;  those  in  camp  wanting  breeches,  shoes,  stockings 
[and]  blankets,  and  by  accounts  brought  yesterday,  were  in  want  of 
flour."  "  Our  enemies  revelling  in  balls,  attended 

with  every  degree  of  luxury  and  excess  in  the  city ;  rioting  and 
wantonly  using  our  houses,  utensils  and  furniture ;  all  this  [and]  a 
numberless  number  of  other  abuses,  we  endure  from  that  handful  of 
banditti,  to  the  amount  of  six  or  seven  thousand  men,  headed  by  that 
monster  of  rapine,  General  Howe." 


158  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

"  Pass,  friend  !*'  said  the  soldier ;  and  the  other  went 
on  quickly. 

Israel  Israel  was  a  native  of  Pennsylvania.  He  had 
left  America  at  twenty-one,  for  the  island  of  Barbadoes; 
and  by  nine  or  ten  years  of  patient  industry  had  amass 
ed  considerable  property.  He  returned  rich  to  his 
native  country  ;  but  in  a  few  months  after  his  marriage 
the  war  broke  out,  and  his  whole  fortune  was  lost  or 
sacrificed  by  agents.  He  had  resolved,  with  his  bro 
ther,  at  the  commencement  of  the  struggle,  to  take  up 
arms  in  the  cause  of  freedom.  But  the  necessity  was 
imperative  that  one  should  remain  for  the  protection  of 
the  helpless  females  of  the  family  ;  and  their  entreaties 
not  to  be  left  exposed  to  a  merciless  enemy  without  a 
brother's  aid,  at  last  prevailed.  Israel  and  Joseph  drew 
lots  to  determine  which  should  become  a  soldier.  The 
lot  fell  upon  the  younger  and  unmarried  one.  At  this 
period  the  residence  of  Israel  was  on  a  small  farm  near 
Wilmington,  Delaware.  His  mother  had  removed  with 
her  family  to  Philadelphia,  her  house  at  Newcastle  being 
thought  too  much  exposed  in  the  vicissitudes  of  war. 
After  the  occupation  of  the  capital  by  the  British,  they 
endured  severe  hardships,  sometimes  suffering  the  want 
of  actual  necessaries.  Israel  watched  over  their  wel 
fare  with  incessant  anxiety. 

The  knowledge  that  his  beloved  ones  were  in  want 
of  supplies,  and  that  his  presence  was  needed,  deter 
mined  him  to  enter  the  city  at  this  time,  notwithstand 
ing  the  personal  hazard  it  involved.  One  of  his  tory 
neighbors,  who  professed  the  deepest  sympathy  for  his 


HANNAH    ERWIN    ISRAEL.  15.9 

feelings,  procured  for  him  the  countersign  for  the  night. 
He  had  thus  been  enabled  to  elude  the  vigilance  of  the 
sentinel. 

When  arrived  at  his  mother's  dwelling,  Mr.  Israel 
found  that  it  was  in  the  possession  of  several  soldiers, 
quartered  upon  the  family.  Among  them  was  *a  savage- 
looking  Hessian,  with  aspect  of  itself  quite  enough  to 
terrify  timid  women.  But  all  annoyances,  and  the  fa 
tigues  of  his  long  walk,  were  forgotten  in  the  joyful 
meeting.  A  still  more  pleasing  surprise  was  reserved 
for  him ;  his  young  brother,  Joseph,  was  that  very 
hour  on  a  secret  visit  to  the  family.  For  some  hours  of 
the  evening  the  household  circle  was  once  more  com 
plete. 

But  such  happiness,  in  those  times  of  peril,  was 
doomed  to  be  short-lived.  At  eleven  o'clock,  while  the 
family  were  seated  at  supper,  the  tramp  of  horses  was 
heard  without ;  and  the  rough  voices  of  soldiers  clamored 
at  the  door.  Within,  all  was  confusion ;  and  the  terrified 
women  entreated  the  brothers  to  fly.  They  followed 
the  younger  with  frantic  haste  up  the  stairs,  where  he 
left  his  uniform,  and  made  his  escape  from  the  roof  of 
the  house.  The  knocking  and  shouting  continued  be 
low  ;  Israel  descended,  accompanied  by  the  pale  and 
trembling  females,  and  himself  opened  the  door.  The 
intruders  rushed  in.  At  their  head  was  the  Hessian 
sergeant,  who  instantly  seized  the  young  man's  arm, 
exclaiming,  "  We  have  caught  him  at  last — the  rebel 
rascal !" 

Mr.    Israel's   presence  of  mind   never   forsook  him 


160  WOMEN    OF    THE    EEVOLUTION. 

under  the  most  appalling  circumstances.  He  was  sen 
sible  of  the  imminence  of  his  own  danger,  and  that  his 
brother's  safety  could  be  secured  only  by  delay.  He 
shook  off  the  grasp  of  the  officer,  and  calmly  demanded 
what  was  meant,  and  who  it  was  that  accused  him  of 
being  a  rebel. 

"  There  he  is !"  replied  the  Hessian,  pointing  to  Ca3sar, 
a  slave  Mr.  Israel  had  brought  from  the  West  Indies, 
and  given  his  mother  for  a  guard. 

The  master  fixed  upon  the  negro  his  stern  and  pene 
trating  look  so  steadfastly,  that  Caesar  trembled  and 
hung  his  head.  "  Dare  you,  Caesar,  call  me  rebel  ?"  he 
exclaimed.  "  Gentlemen" — the  muscles  of  his  mouth 
worked  into  a  sneer  as  he  pronounced  the  word — "  there 
is  some  mistake  here.  My  brother  Joe  is  the  person 
meant,  I  presume.  Let  me  fetch  the  uniform  ;  and 
then  you  can  judge  for  yourselves.  Caesar,  come  with 
me." 

So  saying,  and  taking  the  black  by  the  arm  with  a 
vice-like  grasp,  he  led  him  up  stairs.  "  Not  one  word, 
you  rascal,"  was  whispered  in  his  ear,  "or  I  kill  you 
upon  the  spot."  The  negro  drew  his  breath  hard  and 
convulsively,  but  dared  not  speak.  The  uniform  was 
produced  and  exhibited  ;  and  Israel  made  efforts  to  put 
it  on  before  his  captors.  The  person  whom  it  fitted 
being  short  and  slight  in  figure,  its  ludicrous  dispropor 
tion  to  the  towering  height  and  robust  form  of  the  elder 
brother,  convinced  the  soldiers  of  their  mistake ;  and 
the  sergeant  made  awkward  apologies,  shaking  the  hand 
of  the  man  he  had  so  lately  called  a  rebel,  assuring  him 


HANNAH    ERWIN    ISRAEL.  161 

he  had  no  doubt  he  was  an  honest  and  loyal  subject ; 
and  that  he  would  take  care  his  fidelity  should  be  men 
tioned  in  the  proper  quarter. 

"  And  now/'  he  said,  "  as  your  supper  is  ready,  we 
will  sit  down."  He  seated  himself  beside  his  host, 
whose  resentment  at  the  familiarity  was  tempered  by 
the  thought  that  his  brother  was  saved  by  the  well- 
timed  deceit.  The  ladies  also  were  compelled  to  take 
their  places,  and  to  listen  in  silence  to  the  coarse  re 
marks  of  their  unwelcome  guest.  With  rude  protes 
tations  of  good  will,  and  promises  of  patronage,  he 
mingled  boastful  details  of  his  exploits  in  slaughtering 
"  the  rebels,"  that  caused  his  auditors  to  shudder  with 
horror.  Mr.  Israel  used  to  relate  afterwards  that  he 
grasped  the  knife  he  was  using,  and  raised  it  to  strike 
down  the  savage  ;  but  that  his  mother's  look  of  ago 
nized  entreaty  withheld  the  blow.  The  Hessian  con 
tinued  his  recital,  accompanied  by  many  bitter  oaths. 

"That  Paoli  affair,"  cried  he,  "was  capital!  I  was 
with  General  Grey  in  that  attack.  It  was  just  after 
midnight  when  we  forced  the  outposts,  and  not  a  noise 
was  heard  so  loud  as  the  dropping  of  a  musket.  How 
the  fellows  turned  out  of  their  encampment  when  they 
heard  us !  What  a  running  about — barefoot  and  half 
clothed — and  in  the  light  of  their  own  fires !  These 
showed  us  where  to  chase  them,  while  they  could  not 
see  us.  We  killed  three  hundred  of  the  rebels  with  the 
bayonet ;  I  stuck  them  myself  like  so  many  pigs — one 
after  another — till  the  blood  ran  out  of  the  touchhole  of 
my  musket." 


102  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

The  details  of  the  Hessian  were  interrupted  by  Mr. 
Israel's  starting  to  his  feet,  with  face  pale  with  rage, 
convulsed  lips,  and  clenched  hands.  The  catastrophe 
that  might  have  ensued  was  prevented  by  a  faint  shriek 
from  his  young  sister,  who  fell  into  his  arms  in  a  swoon. 
The  sergeant's  horrible  boastings  thus  silenced,  and 
the  whole  room  in  confusion,  he  bade  the  family  good 
night,  saying  he  was  on  duty,  and  presently  quitted  the 
house. 

The  parting  of  those  who  had  just  gone  through  so 
agitating  a  scene  was  now  to  take  place.  Caesar  was 
sternly  questioned,  and  reprimanded  for  his  perfidy  ; 
but  the  black  excused  himself  by  pleading  that  he  had 
been  compelled  to  do  as  he  had  done.  For  the  future, 
with  streaming  eyes,  he  promised  the  strictest  fidelity; 
and  to  his  credit  be  it  said,  remained  steadfast  in  the 
performance  of  this  promise. 

Having  bidden  adieu  to  his  family,  Mr.  Israel  set 
forth  on  his  journey  homeward.  He  arrived  only  to 
be  made  a  prisoner.  The  loyalist  who  had  given  him 
the  countersign,  had  betrayed  the  secret  of  his  expe 
dition.  He  and  his  wife's  brother  were  immediately 
seized  and  carried  on  board  the  frigate  Roebuck,  lying 
in  the  Delaware,  a  few  miles  from  the  then  borough  of 
Wilmington — and  directly  opposite  his  farm — in  order 
to  be  tried  as  spies. 

Being  one  of  the  "  Committee  of  Safety,"  the  posi 
tion  of  Mr.  Israel,  under  such  an  accusation,  was  ex 
tremely  critical.  On  board  the  ship  he  was  treated  with 
the  utmost  severity.  His  watch,  silver  shoe-buckles, 


HANNAH    ERWIN    ISRAEL.  163 

and  various  articles  of  clothing  were  taken  from  him ; 
his  bed  was  a  coil  of  ropes  on  deck,  without  covering 
from  the  bitter  cold  of  the  night  air  ;  and  to  all  appear 
ances  his  fate  was  already  decided.  The  testimony  of 
his  tory  neighbors  was  strong  against  him.  Several 
wTere  ready  to  swear  to  the  fact,  that  while  the  loyal 
population  of  the  country  had  willingly  furnished  their 
share  of  the  provisions  needed  by  the  ships  of  war,  he 
had  been  heard  to  say  repeatedly,  that  he  "  would  sooner 
drive  his  cattle  as  a  present  to  General  Washington, 
than  receive  thousands  of  dollars  in  British  gold  for 
them,." 

On  being  informed  of  this  speech,  the  commander 
gave  orders  that  a  detachment  of  soldiers  should  pro 
ceed  to  drive  the  rebel's  cattle,  then  grazing  in  a  mea 
dow  in  full  view,  down  to  the  river,  and  slaughter  them 
in  the  face  of  the  prisoners. 

What,  meanwhile,  must  have  been  the  feelings  of  the 
young  wife — herself  about  to  become  a  mother — when 
her  husband  and  brother  were  led  away  in  her  very 
sight  ?  The  farm  was  a  mile  or  more  from  the  river  ; 
but  there  was  nothing  to  intercept  the  view — the  ground 
from  the  meadow  sloping  down  to  the  water.  Mrs. 
Israel  was  at  this  period  about  nineteen  years  of  age  ; 
and  is  described  as  of  middle  height,  and  slight  but 
sym metrical  figure  ;  of  fair  complexion,  with  clear 
blue  eyes  and  dark  hair ;  her  manners  modest  and  retir 
ing.  She  was  devoted  to  her  family  and  her  domestic 
concerns.  It  needed  the  trying  scenes  by  which  she 
was  surrounded,  to  develop  the  heroism  which,  in  times 


164  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

more  peaceful,  might  have  been  unmarked  by  those  who 
knew  her  most  intimately. 

From  her  position  on  the  look-out,  she  saw  the  sol 
diers  land  from  the  ships,  shoulder  arms,  and  advance 
towards  the  meadow.  In  an  instant  she  divined  their 
purpose;  and  her  resolution  was  taken.  With  a  boy 
eight  years  old,  whom  she  bade  follow  her  at  his  utmost 
speed,  she  started  off,  determined  to  baffle  the  enemy, 
and  save  the  cattle  at  the  peril  of  her  life.  Down  went 
the  bars,  and  followed  by  the  little  boy,  she  ran  to  drive 
the  herd  to  the  opening. 

The  soldiers  called  out  repeatedly  to  her  to  desist, 
and  threatened,  if  she  did  not,  to  fire  upon  her. 

"  Fire  away !"  cried  the  heroic  woman.  They  fired ! 
The  balls  flew  thickly  around  her.  The  frightened  cat 
tle  ran  in  every  direction  over  the  field. 

"  This  way !"  she  called  to  the  boy,  nothing  daunted  ; 
"  this  way,  Joe  !  Head  them  there !  Stop  them,  Joe  ! 
Do  not  let  one  escape  !" 

And  not  one  did  escape  !  The  bullets  fired  by  the 
cowardly  British  soldiers  continued  to  whistle  around 
her  person.  The  little  boy,  paralyzed  by  terror,  fell  to 
the  ground.  She  seized  him  by  the  arm,  lifted  him  over 
the  fence,  and  herself  drove  the  cattle  into  the  barn 
yard.  The  assailants,  baffled  by  the  courage  of  a  wo 
man,  and  probably  not  daring,  for  fear  of  the  neighbors, 
to  invade  the  farrn-houses,  retraced  their  steps,  and  re 
turned  disappointed  to  the  ship. 

All  this  scene  passed  in  sight  of  the  officers  of  the 
"Roebuck"  and  the  two  prisoners.  The  agony  of 


HANNAH    ERWIN    ISRAEL.  165 

suspense  and  fear  endured  by  the  husband  and  brother, 
when  they  saw  the  danger  to  which  the  wife  exposed 
herself,  may  be  better  imagined  than  described.  It  may 
also  be  conceived  how  much  they  exulted  in  her 
triumph. 

The  trial  was  held  on  board  the  ship.  The  tory  wit 
nesses  were  examined  in  due  form ;  and  it  was  but  too  evi 
dent  that  the  lives  of  the  prisoners  were  in  great  danger. 
A  kind-hearted  sailor  sought  an  opportunity  of  speaking 
in  private  with  Mr.  Israel,  and  asked  him  if  he  were  a 
freemason.  The  answer  was  in  the  affirmative.  The 
sailor  then  informed  him  that  a  lodge  was  held  on  ship 
board,  and  the  officers,  who  belonged  to  it,  were  to 
meet  that  night. 

The  prisoners  were  called  up  before  their  judges,  and 
permitted  to  answer  to  the  accusations  against  them. 
Mr.  Israel,  in  bold  but  respectful  language,  related  his 
story;  and  acknowledged  his  secret  visit  to  Philadelphia, 
not  in  the  character  of  a  spy,  but  to  carry  relief  to  his 
suffering  parent  and  her  family.  He  also  acknowledged 
having  said,  as  was  testified,  that  "he  would  rather  give 
his  cattle  to  Washington,  or  destroy  the  whole  herd 
than  sell  them  for  British  gold."  This  trait  of  magna 
nimity  might  not  have  been  so  appreciated  by  the 
enemies  of  his  country,  as  to  operate  in  his  favor,  but 
that — watching  his  opportunity,  he  made  to  the  com 
manding  officer  the  secret  sign  of  masonic  brotherhood. 
The  effect  was  instantly  observable.  The  officer's  stern 
countenance  softened  ;  his  change  of  opinion  and  that 
of  the  other  judges,  became  evident;  and  after  some 


166  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

further  examination,  the  court  was  broken  up.  The 
informants,  and  those  who  had  borne  testimony  against 
the  prisoners,  hung  their  heads  in  shame  at  the  severe 
rebuke  of  the  court,  for  their  cowardly  conduct  in 
betraying,  and  preferring  charges  against  an  honorable 
man,  bound  on  a  mission  of  love  and  duty  to  his  aged 
mother.  The  acquitted  prisoners  were  dismissed, 
loaded  with  presents  of  pins,  handkerchiefs,  and  other 
articles  not  to  be  purchased  at  that  time,  for  the  intrepid 
wife ;  and  were  sent  on  shore  in  a  splendid  barge,  as  a 
mark  of  special  honor  from  the  officer  in  command. 

Such  was  the  adventure  in  which  the  courage  and 
patriotism  of  the  subject  of  this  notice  was  displayed. 
The  records  of  the  Grand  Lodge  of  Pennsylvania,  of 
which  Mr.  Israel  was  Grand  Master  for  many  years, 
bear  testimony  to  his  having  been  saved  from  an  igno 
minious  death  by  masonry.  Mrs.  Israel's  family  name 
was  Erwin ;  her  ancestors  were  Quakers  who  came 
with  Penn,  her  parents  native  Americans;  and  she 
herself  was  born  in  Wilmington,  Delaware.  Her  first 
meeting  with  her  husband  was  romantic  enough.  Mr. 
Israel  had  sailed  in  a  sloop,  or  packet,  from  Philadelphia, 
to  visit  New  Castle,  where  his  mother  and  family  resided. 
He  observed  on  deck  an  extremely  pretty  girl,  hardly 
seventeen  years  of  age,  and  very  neatly  and  tastefully 
dressed,  with  the  finest  turned  foot  and  ankle  in  the 
world.  All  who  went  on  such  voyages  were  then 
obliged  to  furnish  themselves  with  provisions ;  and  his 
attention  was  drawn  by  the  young  girl's  kindly  distribu 
tion  of  her  little  stock,  handing  it  about  from  one  to 


HANNAH    ERWIN    ISRAEL.  167 

another,  till  but  little  was  left  for  her  own  portion.  In 
passing  him,  she  modestly  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then 
offered  him  a  share.  This  led  to  conversation ;  he 
learned  that  she  was  the  daughter  of  highly  respectable 
parents,  and  resided  in  Wilmington.  Love  at  first 
sight  was  as  common  in  those  days  as  now.  After 
seeing  his  mother,  he  visited  Wilmington ;  became 
better  acquainted,  offered  himself  and  was  accepted ; 
and  on  his  marriage,  rented  the  farm  above  mentioned, 
and  commenced  life  anew.  It  maybe  proper  to  mention 
here — that  the  castle  from  which  the  town  of  New 
Castle  took  its  name,  was  in  very  early  days  the  proper 
ty  and  residence  of  his  ancestors.  Subsequently  he 
became  the  purchaser  of  the  old  castle  ;  and  removed 
the  tiles  that  covered  it,  with  the  vane  that  graced  it,  to 
his  country-seat,  where  part  of  them,  several  hundred 
years  old,  are  still  to  be  seen. 

Mr.  Israel  died  in  1621,  at  the  age  of  seventy-eight. 
The  death  of  his  wife  took  place  at  his  country-seat 
near  Philadelphia,  at  the  age  of  fifty-six.  She  was  the 
mother  of  thirteen  children,  many  of  whom  died  young. 
But  two  are  now  living — and  reside  in  Philadelphia. 
One  of  them  is  the  accomplished  lady — herself  the  wife 
of  a  gallant  officer  thirty-five  years  engaged  in  the 
service  of  his  country — from  whom  I  received  these 
particulars. 

To  this  glance  at  the  condition  of  some  of  the 
citizens  of  Philadelphia  at  that  time,  may  le  added  a 
description,  from  a  lady's  letter  to  her  friend,  of  the 
first  entrance  of  the  British  army  into  the  city. 


168  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

"  We  had  for  a  neighbor,  and  an  intimate  acquain 
tance,  a  very  amiable  English  gentleman,  who  had  been 
in  the  British  army,  and  had  left  the  service  on  marry 
ing  a  rich  and  excellent  lady  of  Philadelphia,  some  years 
before.  He  endeavored  to  give  my  mother  confidence 
that  the  inhabitants  would  not  be  ill-treated.  He  ad 
vised  that  we  should  be  all  well-dressed,  and  that  we 
should  keep  our  houses  closed.  The  army  marched  in, 
and  took  possession  of  the  town  in  the  morning.  We 
were  up  stairs,  and  saw  them  pass  to  the  State  House. 
They  looked  well — clean  and  well-clad  ;  and  the  con 
trast  between  them  and  our  poor  barefooted  and  rag 
ged  troops  was  very  great,  and  caused  a  feeling  of 
despair.  It  was  a  solemn  and  impressive  day  ;  but  I 
saw  no  exultation  in  the  enemy,  nor  indeed  in  those 
who  were  reckoned  favorable  to  their  success.  Early 
iu  the  afternoon  Lord  Cornwallis's  suite  arrived,  and 
took  possession  of  my  mother's  dwelling.  But  my  mo 
ther  was  appalled  by  the  numerous  train  in  her  house, 
and  shrank  from  having  such  inmates  ;  for  a  guard  was 
mounted  at  the  door,  and  the  yard  filled  with  soldiers 
and  baggage  of  every  description  ;  and  I  well  remem 
ber  what  we  thought  of  the  haughty  looks  of  Lord 
Rawdon  and  the  other  aid-de-camp,  as  they  traversed 
the  apartments.  My  mother  desired  to  speak  with 
Lord  Cornwallis,  and  he  attended  her  in  the  front  par 
lor.  She  told  him  of  her  situation,  and  how  impossible 
it  would  be  for  her  to  stay  in  her  own  house  with  such 
a  train  as  composed  his  lordship's  establishment.  He 
behaved  with  great  politeness  to  her ;  said  he  should 


MARY    REDMOND.  169 

be  sorry  to  give  trouble,  and  would  have  other  quarters 
looked  out  for  him.  They  withdrew  that  very  after 
noon,  and  we  felt  glad  of  the  exemption.  But  it  did  not 
last  long ;  for  directly  the  quartermasters  were  employed 
in  billeting  the  troops,  and  we  had  to  find  room  for  two 
officers  of  artillery ;  and  afterwards,  in  addition,  for 
two  gentlemen,  secretaries  of  Lord  Howe." 

"  General  Howe,  during  the  time  he  stayed  in  Phila 
delphia,  seized  and  kept  for  his  own  use  Mary  Pember- 
ton's  coach  and  horses,  in  which  he  used  to  ride  about 
the  town." 

"  My  wife,"  says  Marshall  in  his  manuscript  diary, 
February  14th,  1778,  "looks  upon  every  Philadelphian 
who  comes  to  see  us  as  a  person  suffering  in  a  righteous 
cause,  and  entitled  to  partake  of  our  hospitality."  Tra 
dition  has  preserved,  in  several  families,  anecdotes  illus 
trative  of  the  strait  to  which  even  women  and  children 
were  then  reduced.  One  of  Mary  Redmond  may  be 
mentioned.  She  was  the  daughter  of  a  patriot  some 
what  distinguished  among  his  neighbors  in  Philadelphia. 
Many  of  her  relatives  were  loyalists ;  and  she  was 
playfully  called  among  them  "  the  little  black-eyed  rebel." 
She  was  accustomed  to  assist  several  women  whose 
husbands  were  in  the  American  army,  to  procure  intel 
ligence.  The  despatches  were  usually  sent  from  their 
friends  by  a  boy,  who  carried  them  stitched  in  the  back 
of  his  coat.  He  came  into  the  city  bringing  provisions 
to  market.  One  morning,  when  there  was  some  reason 
to  fear  he  was  suspected,  and  his  movements  watched 
by  the  enemy,  Mary  undertook  to  get  the  papers  in  safety 
8 


170  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

from  him.  She  went,  as  usual,  to  the.  market,  and  in  a 
pretended  game  of  romps,  threw  her  shawl  over  the 
boy's  head,  and  thus  secured  the  prize.  She  hastened 
with  the  papers  to  her  anxious  friends,  who  read  them 
by  stealth,  after  the  windows  had  been  carefully  closed. 
When  the  news  came  of  Burgoyne's  surrender,  and  the 
whig  women  were  secretly  rejoicing,  the  sprightly  girl, 
not  daring  to  give  vent  openly  to  her  exultation,  put  her 
head  up  the  chimney  and  gave  a  shout  for  Gates, 


XII. 


LIBIA    DARRAH.* 

ON  the  second  day  of  December,  1777,  late  in  the 
afternoon,  an  officer  in  the  British  uniform  ascended  the 
steps  of  a  house  in  Second  street,  Philadelphia,  imme 
diately  opposite  the  quarters  occupied  by  General  Howe, 
who,  at  that  time,  had  full  possession  of  the  city.  The 
house  was  plain  and  neat  in  its  exterior,  and  well  known 
to  be  tenanted  by  William  and  Lydia  Darrah,  members  of 
the  Society  of  Friends.  It  \vas  the  place  chosen  by 
the  superior  officers  of  the  army  for  private  conference, 
whenever  it  was  necessary  to  hold  consultations  on 
subjects  of  importance  ;  and  selected,  perhaps,  on  ac 
count  of  the  unobtrusive  character  of  its  inmates,  whose 
religion  inculcated  meekness  and  forbearance,  and  for 
bade  them  to  practise  the  arts  of  war. 

The  officer,  wrho  seemed  quite  familiar  with  the  man- 

*  Sometimes  spelled  Darrach.  This  anecdote  is  given  in  the  first 
number  of  the  American  Quarterly  Review,  and  is  said  to  be  taken  from 
Lydia 's  own  narration.  It  is  mentioned  or  alluded  to  by  several  other 
authorities,  and  in  letters  written  at  the  time.  The  story  is  familiar  to 
many  persons  in  Philadelphia,  who  heard  it  from  their  parents ;  so 
that  there  appears  no  reason  to  doubt  its  authenticity, 


172  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

sion,  knocked  at  the  door.  It  was  opened  ;  and  in  the 
neatly-furnished  parlor  he  met  the  mistress,  who  spoke 
to  him,  calling  him  by  name.  It  was  the  adjutant- 
general  ;  and  he  appeared  in  haste  to  give  an  order. 
This  was  to  desire  that  the  back-room  above  stairs 
might  be  prepared  for  the  reception  that  evening  of 
himself  and  his  friends,  who  were  to  meet  there  and 
remain  late.  "  And  be  sure,  Lydia,"  he  concluded, 
"  that  your  family*are  all  in  bed  at  an  early  hour.  I 
shall  expect  you  to  attend  to  this  request.  When  our 
guests  are  ready  to  leave  the  house,  I  will  myself  give 
you  notice,  that  you  may  let  us  out,  and  extinguish  the 
fire  and  candles." 

Having  delivered  this  order  with  an  emphatic  man 
ner  which  showed  that  he  relied  much  on  the  prudence 
and  discretion  of  the  person  he  addressed,  the  adjutant- 
general  departed.  Lydia  betook  herself  to  getting  all 
things  in  readiness.  But  the  words  she  had  heard,  es 
pecially  the  injunction  to  retire  early,  rang  in  her  ears  ; 
and  she  could  not  divest  herself  of  the  indefinable  feel 
ing  that  something  of  importance  was  in  agitation. 
While  her  hands  were  busy  in  the  duties  that  devolved 
upon  her,  her  mind  was  no  less  actively  at  work.  The 
evening  closed  in,  and  the  officers  came  to  the  place  of 
meeting.  Lydia  had  ordered  all  her  family  to  bed,  and 
herself  admitted  the  guests,  after  which  she  retired  to 
her  own  apartment,  and  threw  herself,  without  undress 
ing,  upon  the  bed. 

But  sleep  refused  to  visit  her  eyelids.  Her  vague  ap 
prehensions  gradually  assumed  more  definite  shape. 


LYDIA    DARRAII.  173 

She  became  more  and  more  uneasy,  till  her  nervous 
restlessness  amounted  to  absolute  terror.  Unable  longer 
to  resist  the  impulse — not  of  curiosity,  but  surely  of  a  far 
higher  feeling — she  slid  from  the  bed,  and  taking  off  her 
shoes,  passed  noiselessly  from  her  chamber  and  along  the 
entry.  Approaching  cautiously  the  apartment  in  which 
the  officers  were  assembled,  she  applied  her  ear  to  the 
key-hole.  For  a  few  moments  she  could  distinguish 
but  a  word  or  two  amid  the  murmur  of  voices  ;  yet 
what  she  did  hear  but  stimulated  her  eager  desire  to 
learn  the  important  secret  of  the  conclave. 

At  length  there  was  profound  silence,  and  a  voice 
was  heard  reading  a  paper  aloud.  It  was  an  order  for 
the  troops  to  quit  the  city  on  the  night  of  the  fourth, 
and  march  out  to  a  secret  attack  upon  the  American 
army,  then  encamped  at  White  Marsh. 

Lydia  had  heard  enough.  She  retreated  softly  to  her 
own  room,  and  laid  herself  quietly  on  the  bed.  In  the 
deep  stillness  that  reigned  through  the  house,  she  could 
hear  the  beating  of  her  own  heart — the  heart  now  throb 
bing  with  emotions  to  which  no  speech  could  give  utter 
ance.  It  seemed  to  her  that  but  a  few  moments  had 
elapsed,  when  there  was  a  knocking  at  her  door.  She 
knew  well  what  the  signal  meant,  but  took  no  heed.  It 
was  repeated,  and  more  loudly  ;  still  she  gave  no  an 
swer.  Again,  and  yet  more  loudly,  the  knocks  were 
repeated  ;  and  then  she  rose  quickly,  and  opened  the 
door. 

It  was  the  adjutant-general,  who  came  to  inform 
her  they  were  ready  to  depart.  Lydia  let  them  out, 


174  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

fastened  the  house,  and  extinguished  the  lights  and  fire. 
Again  she  returned  to  her  chamber,  and  to  bed  ;  but  re 
pose  was  a  stranger  for  the  rest  of  the  night.  Her 
mind  was  more  disquieted  than  ever.  1  She  thought  of 
the  danger  that  threatened  the  lives  of  thousands  of  her 
countrymen,  and  of  the  ruin  that  impended  over  the 
whole  land.  Something  must  be  done,  and  that  imme 
diately,  to  avert  this  wide-spread  destruction.  Should 
she  awaken  her  husband  and  inform  him  ?  That  would 
be  to  place  him  in  special  jeopardy,  by  rendering  him  a 
partaker  of  her  secret ;  and  he  might,  too,  be  less  wary 
and  prudent  than  herself.  No  ;  come  what  might,  she 
would  encounter  the  risk  alone.  After  a  petition  for 
heavenly  guidance,  her  resolution  was  formed  ;  and  she 
waited  with  composure,  though  sleep  was  impossible, 
till  the  dawn  of  day.  Then  she  waked  her  husband, 
and  informed  him  flour  was  wranted  for  the  use  of  the 
household,  and  that  it  was  necessary  she  should  go  to 
Frankford  to  procure  it.  This  was  no  uncommon  oc 
currence  ;  and  her  declining  the  attendance  of  the 
maid-servant  excited  little  surprise.  Taking  the  bag 
with  her,  she  walked  through  the  snow ;  having  stop 
ped  first  at  head-quarters,  obtained  access  to  Gen 
eral  Howe,  and  secured  his  written  permission  to  pass 
the  British  lines. 

The  feelings  of  a  wife  and  mother — one  whose  reli 
gion  was  that  of  love,  and  whose  life  was  but  a  quiet 
round  of  domestic  duties — bound  on  an  enterprise  so 
hazardous,  and  uncertain  whether  her  life  might  not  be 
the  forfeit,  may  be  better  imagined  than  described. 


LYDIA    DARRAH.  175 

Lydia  reached  Frankford,  distant  four  or  five  miles,  and 
deposited  her  bag  at  the  mill.  Now  commenced  the 
dangers  of  her  undertaking  ;  for  she  pressed  forward 
with  all  haste  towards  the  outposts  of  the  American 
army.  Her  determination  was  to  apprise  General 
Washington  of  the  danger. 

She  was  met  on  her  way  by  an  American  officer, 
who  had  been  selected  by  General  Washington  to  gain 
information  respecting  the  movements  of  the  enemy. 
According  to  some  authorities,  this  was  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Craig,  of  the  light  horse.  He  immediately 
recognized  her,  and  inquired  whither  she  was  going. 
In  reply,  she  prayed  him  to  alight  and  walk  with  her; 
which  he  did,  ordering  his  men  to  keep  in  sight.  To 
him  she  disclosed  the  secret,  after  having  obtained 
from  him  a  solemn  promise  riot  to  betray  her  individu 
ally,  since  the  British  might  take  vengeance  on  her  and 
her  family. 

The  officer  thanked  her  for  her  timely  warning,  and 
directed  her  to  go  to  a  house  near  at  hand,  where  she 
might  get  •  something  to  eat.  But  Lydia  preferred 
returning  at  once ;  and  did  so,  while  the  officer  made 
all  haste  to  the  commander-in-chief.  Preparations  were 
immediately  made  to  give  the  enemy  a  fitting  recep 
tion. 

With  a  heart  lightened  and  filled  with  thankfulness, 
the  intrepid  woman  pursued  her  way  homeward,  carry 
ing  the  bag  of  flour  which  had  served  as  the  ostensible 
object  of  her  journey.  None  suspected  the  grave, 
demure  Quakeress  of  having  snatched  from  the  English 


176  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

their  anticipated  victory.  Her  demeanor  was,  as  usual, 
quiet,  orderly,  and  subdued,  and  she  attended  to  the 
duties  of  her  family  with  her  wonted  composure.  But 
her  heart  beat,  as  late  on  the  appointed  night,  she 
watched  from  her  window  the  departure  of  the  army — 
on  what  secret  expedition  bound,  she  knew  too  well! 
She  listened  breathlessly  to  the  sound  of  their  footsteps 
and  the  trampling  of  horses,  till  it  died  away  in  the 
distance,  and  silence  reigned  through  the  city. 

Time  never  appeared  to  pass  so  slowly  as  during  the 
interval  which  elapsed  between  the  marching  out  and 
the  return  of  the  British  troops.  When  at  last  the 
distant  roll  of  the  drum  proclaimed  their  approach; 
when  the  sounds  came  nearer  and  nearer,  and  Lydia, 
who  was  watching  at  the  window,  saw7  the  troops  pass  in 
martial  order,  the  agony  of  anxiety  she  felt  was  too 
much  for  her  strength,  and  she  retreated  from  her  post, 
not  daring  to  ask  a  question,-  or  manifest  the  least 
curiosity  as  to  the  event. 

A  sudden  and  loud  knocking  at  her  door  was  not 
calculated  to  lessen  her  apprehensions.  She  felt  that 
the  safety  of  her  family  depended  on  her  self-possession 
at  this  critical  moment.  The  visitor  was  the  adjutant- 
general,  who  summoned  her  to  his  apartment.  With 
a  pale  cheek,  but  composed,  for  she  placed  her  trust  in 
a  higher  Power,  Lydia  obeyed  the  summons. 

The  officer's  face  was  clouded,  and  his  expression 
stern.  He  locked  the  door  with  an  air  of  mystery 
when  Lydia  entered,  and  motioned  her  to  a  seat.  After 
a  moment  of  silence,  he  said — 


LYDIA    DARRAH.  177 

"  Were  any  of  your  family  up,  Lydia,  on  the  night 
when  I  received  company  in  this  house  ?" 

"  No."  was  the  unhesitating  reply.  "  They  all  retired 
at  eight  o'clock." 

"  It  is  very  strange" — said  the  officer,  and  mused  a 
few  minutes.  "  You,  I  know,  Lydia,  were  asleep  ;  for 
I  knocked  at  your  door  three  times  before  you. heard  me 
— yet  it  is  certain  that  we  were  betrayed.  I  am 
altogether  at  a  loss  to  conceive  who  could  have  given 
the  information  of  our  intended  attack  to  General 
Washington !  On  arriving  near  his  encampment  we 
found  his  cannon  mounted,  his  troops  under  arms,  and 
so  prepared  at  every  point  to  receive  us,  that  we  have 
been  compelled  to  march  back  without  injuring  our 
enemy,  like  a  parcel  of  fools." 

It  is  not  known  whether  the  officer  ever  discovered 
to  whom  he  was  indebted  for  the  disappointment. 

But  the  pious  quakeress  blessed  God  for  her  preserva 
tion,  and  rejoiced  that  it  was  not  necessary  for  her  to 
utter  an  untruth  in  her  own  defence.  And  all  who 
admire  examples  of  courage  and  patriotism,  especially 
those  who  enjoy  the  fruits  of  them,  must  honor  the 
name  of  Lydia  Darrah. 


XIII. 


REBECCA    FKANKS. 

"  THE  celebrated  Miss  Franks" — so  distinguished  for 
intelligence  and  high  accomplishment,  in  Revolutionary 
times,  could  not  properly  be  passed  over  in  a  series  of 
notices  of  remarkable  women  of  that  period.  In  the 
brilliant  position  she  occupied  in  fashionable  society, 
she  exerted,  as  may  well  be  believed,  no  slight 
influence ;  for  wit  and  beauty  are  potent  champions  in 
any  cause  for  which  they  choose  to  arm  themselves. 
That  her  talents  were  generally  employed  on  the  side 
of  humanity  and  justice, — that  the  pointed  shafts  of  her 
wit,  which  spared  neither  friend  nor  foe,  were  aimed  to 
chastise  presumption  and  folly — we  may  infer  from  the 
amiable  disposition  which  it  is  recorded  she  possessed. 
Admired  in  fashionable  circles,  and  courted  for  the 
charms  of  her  conversation,  she  must  have  found  many 
opportunities  of  exercising  her  feminine  privilege  of 
softening  asperities  and  alleviating  suffering — as  well 
as  of  humbling  the  arrogance  of  those  whom  military 
success  rendered  regardless  of  the  feelings  of  others. 
Though  a  decided  loyalist,  her  satire  did  not  spare 


REBECCA    FRANKS.  179 

those  whose  opinions  she  favored.  It  is  related  of  her, 
that  at  a  splendid  ball  given  by  the  officers  of  the 
British  army  to  the  ladies  of  New  York,  she  ventured 
one  of  those  jests  frequently  uttered,  which  must  have 
been  severely  felt  in  the  faint  prospect  that  existed  of 
a  successful  termination  to  the  war.  During  an  interval 
of  dancing,  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  previously  engaged  in 
conversation  with  Miss  Franks,  called  out  to  the  musi 
cians,  "Give  us  'Britons,  strike  home.'"  "Thecom- 
mander-in-chief,"  exclaimed  she,  "has  made  a  mistake; 
he  meant  to  say,  '  Britons — go  home'" 

The  keenness  of  her  irony,  and  her  readiness  at 
repartee,  were  not  less  promptly  shown  in  sharp  tilting 
with  the  American  officers.  At  the  festival  of  the 
Mischianza,  where  even  whig  ladies  were  present, 
Miss  Franks  had  appeared  as  one  of  the  princesses. 
She  remained  in  Philadelphia  after  its  evacuation  by 
the  British  troops.  Lieutenant-Colonel  Jack  Steward 
of  Maryland,  dressed  in  a  fine  suit  of  scarlet,  took  an 
early  occasion  to  pay  his  compliments  ;  and  gallantly 
said — "I  have  adopted  your  colors,  my  princess,  the 
better  to  secure  a  courteous  reception.  Deign  to  smile 
on  a  true  knight/'  To  this  covert  taunt  Miss  Franks 
made  no  reply  :  but  turning  to  the  company  who  sur 
rounded  her,  exclaimed — "  How  the  ass  glories  in  the 
lion's  skin !"  The  same  officer  met  with  another 
equally  severe  rebuff,  while  playing  with  the  same 
weapons.  The  conversation  of  the  company  was  inter 
rupted  by  a  loud  clamor  from  the  street,  which  caused 


180  WOMEN    OF    THE    EEVOLUTION. 

them  to  hasten  to  the  windows.  High  head-dresses 
were  then  the  reigning  fashion  among  the  English  belles. 
A  female  appeared  in  the  street,  surrounded  by  a  crowd 
of  idlers,  ragged  in  her  apparel,  and  barefoot ;  but 
adorned  with  a  towering  head-dress  in  the  extreme  of 
the  mode.  Miss  Franks  readily  perceived  the  intent 
of  this  pageant ;  and  on  the  lieutenant-colonel's  observ 
ing  that  the  woman  was  equipped  in  the  English  fashion, 
replied,  "  Not  altogether,  colonel ;  for  though  the 
style  of  her  head  is  British,  her  shoes  and  stockings  are 
in  the  genuine  continental  fashion  !"* 

Many  anecdotes  of  her  quick  and  brilliant  wit  are 
extant  in  the  memory  of  individuals,  and  many  sarcastic 
speeches  attributed  to  her  have  been  repeated.  It  is 
represented  that  her  information  was  extensive,  and 
that  few  were  qualified  to  enter  the  lists  with  her. 
General  Charles  Lee,  in  the  humorous  letter  he  address 
ed  to  Tier — a  jeu  d' esprit  she  is  said  to  have  received 
with  serious  anger — calls  her  "  a  lady  who  has  had  every 
human  and  divine  advantage." 

Rebecca  Franks  was  the  daughter  and  youngest  child 
of  David  Franks,  a  Jewish  merchant,  who  emigrated  to 
this  country  about  a  century  since.  He  married  an 
Englishwoman  before  coming  to  America,  and  had 
three  sons  and  two  daughters.  The  eldest  daughter 
married  Andrew  Hamilton,  brother  to  the  well-known 
proprietor  of  "  The  Woodlands."  After  the  termination 
of  the  war,  Rebecca  married  General  Henry  Johnson, 
a  British  officer  of  great  merit,  and  accompanied  him 

*  Garden. 


REBECCA    FRANKS.  181 

to  England.  He  distinguished  himself  by  some  act  of 
gallantry  in  one  of  the  outbreaks  of  rebellion  in  Ireland, 
and  received  the  honor  of  knighthood.  Their  residence 
was  at  Bath,  where  their  only  surviving  son  still  lives. 
The  other  son  was  killed  at  the  battle  of  Waterloo. 

The  lady  who  furnished  the  above  details,  informed 
me  that  her  brother  was  entertained  in  1810,  at  Lady 
Johnson's  house  in  Bath,  where  she  was  living  in  ele 
gant  style,  and  exercising  with  characteristic  grace  the 
duties  of  hospitality,  and  the  virtues  that  adorn  social  life. 
He  described  her  person  as  of  the  middle  height,  rather 
inclining  to  embonpoint ;  and  her  expression  of  coun 
tenance  as  very  agreeable,  with  fine  eyes.  Her  man 
ners  were  frank  and  cheerful,  and  she  appeared  happy 
in  contributing  to  the  happiness  of  others.  Sir  Henry 
was  at  that  time  living. 

It  is  said  that  Lady  Johnson,  not  long  after  this 
period,  expressed  to  a  young  American  officer  her  peni 
tence  for  her  former  toryism,  and  her  pride  and  pleasure 
in  the  victories  of  her  countrymen  on  the  Niagara  fron 
tier,  in  the  war  of  1812.  It  has  been  remarked  that  favor 
able  sentiments  towards  the  Americans  are  general  among 
loyalists  residing  in  England  ;  while,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  political  animosity  of  Revolutionary  times  is  still  ex 
tant  in  the  British  American  Colonies.  A  loyal  spinster 
of  four-score  residing  in  one  of  these,  when  on  a  visit  to 
one  of  her  friends,  some  two  years  since,  saw  on  the  walls, 
among  several  portraits  of  distinguished  men,  a  print 
of  "  the  traitor  Washington."  She  was  so  much  trou 
bled  at  the  sight,  that  her  friend,  to  appease  her,  ordered 


182  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

it  to  be  taken  down  and  put  away  during  her  visit.  A 
story  is  told  also  of*  a  gentleman  high  in  office  in  the  same 
colony,  on  whom  an  agent  of  the  "  New  York  Albion" 
called  to  deliver  the  portrait  of  Washington  which  the 
publisher  that  year  presented  to  his  subscribers.  The 
gentleman,  highly  insulted,  ordered  the  astonished  agent 

to  take  "  the thing"  out  of  his  sight,  and  to  strike 

his  name  instantly  from  the  list. 

Miss  Franks,  it  has  been  mentioned,  was  one  of  the 
princesses  of  the  Mischianza.  This  Italian  word,  sig 
nifying  a  medley  or  mixture,  was  applied  to  an  enter 
tainment,  or  series  of  entertainments,  given  by  the 
British  officers  in  Philadelphia  as  a  parting  compliment 
to  Sir  William  Howe,  just  before  his  relinquishment  of 
command  to  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  and  departure  to  Eng 
land.  Some  of  his  enemies  called  it  his  triumph  on 
leaving  America  unconquered.  A  description  of  this 
singular  fete  may  be  interesting  to  many  readers  ;  I 
therefore  abridge  one  written,  it  is  said,  by  Major 
Andre  for  an  English  Lady's  Magazine. 

I  have  seen  a  fac  simile  of  the  tickets  issued,  in  a 
volume  of  American  Historical  and  Literary  curiosities. 
The  names  are  in  a  shield,  on  which  is  a  view  of  the  sea 
with  the  setting  sun,  and  on  a  wreath  the  words  "  Luceo 
discedens,  aucto  splendors,  resurgam"  At  the  top  is 
General  Howe's  crest,  with  the  words  "  Vive  vale." 
Around  the  shield  runs  a  vignette ;  and  various  military 
trophies  fill  up  the  back-ground. 

The  entertainment  was  given  on  the  18th  of  May, 
1778.  It  commenced  with  a  grand  regatta,  in  three 


REBECCA    FRANKS.  183 

divisions.  In  the  first  was  the  Ferret  galley,  on  board 
of  which  were  several  general  officers  and  ladies.  In 
the  centre,  the  Hussar  galley  bore  Sir  William  and  Lord 
Howe,  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  their  suite,  and  many  ladies. 
The  Cornwallis  galley  brought  up  the  rear — General 
Knyphhausen  and  suite,  three  British  generals,  and 
ladies,  being  on  board.  On  each  quarter  of  these  gal 
leys,  and  forming  their  division,  were  five  flat  boats 
lined  with  green  cloth,  and  filled  with  ladies  and  gentle 
men.  In  front  were  three  flat  boats,  with  bands  of 
music.  Six  barges  rowed  about  each  flank,  to  keep  off 
the  swarm  of  boats  in  the  river.  The  galleys  were 
dressed  in  colors  and  streamers  ;  the  ships  lying  at 
anchor  were  magnificently  decorated  ;  and  the  trans 
port  ships  with  colors  flying,  which  extended  in  a  line 
the  whole  length  of  the  city,  were  crowded,  as  well  as 
the  wharves,  with  spectators.  The  rendezvous  was  at 
Knight's  wharf,  at  the  northern  extremity  of  the  city. 
The  company  embarked  at  half-past  four,  the  three  divi 
sions  moving  slowly  down  to  the  music.  Arrived  oppo 
site  Market  wharf,  at  a  signal  all  rested  on  their  oars, 
and  the  music  played  "  God  save  the  king,"  answered 
by  three  cheers  from  the  vessels.  The  landing  was  at 
the  Old  Fort,  a  little  south  of  the  town,  and  in  front  of 
the  building  prepared  for  the  company — a  few  hundred 
yards  from  the  water.  This  regatta  was  gazed  at  from 
the  wharves  and  warehouses  by  all  the  uninvited  popu 
lation  of  the  city. 

When  the  general's  barge  pushed  for  shore,  a  salute 
of  seventeen  guns  was  fired  from  his  Majesty's  ship 


184  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

Roebuck ;  and  after  an  interval,  seventeen  from  the 
Vigilant.  The  procession  advanced  through  an  avenue 
formed  by  two  files  of  grenadiers,  each  supported  by  a 
line  of  light-horse.  The  avenue  led  to  a  spacious  lawn, 
lined  with  troops,  and  prepared  for  the  exhibition  of  a 
tilt  and  tournament.  The  music,  and  managers  with 
favors  of  white  and  blue  ribbons  in  their  breasts,  led 
the  way,  followed  by  the  generals  and  the  rest  of  the 
company. 

In  front,  the  building  oounded  the  view  through  a 
vista  formed  by  two  triumphal  arches  in  a  line  with  the 
landing  place.  Two  pavilions,  with-  rows  of  benches 
rising  one  above  another,  received  the  ladies,  while  the 
gentlemen  ranged  themselves  on  each  side.  On  the 
front  seat  of  each  pavilion  were  seven  young  ladies  as 
princesses,  in  Turkish  habits,  and  wearing  in  their 
turbans  the  favors  meant  for  the  knights  who  contended. 
The  sound  of  trumpets  was  heard  in  the  distance  ;  and 
a  band  of  knights  in  ancient  habits  of  white  and  red 
silk,  mounted  on  gray  horses  caparisoned  in  the  same 
colors,  attended  by  squires  on  foot,  heralds  and  trumpet 
ers,  entered  the  lists.  Lord  Cathcart  was  chief  of  these 
knights;  and  appeared  in  honor  of  Miss  Auchmuty. 
One  of  his  esquires  bore  his  lance,  another  his  shield ; 
and  two  black  slaves  in  blue  and  white  silk,  with  silver 
clasps  on  their  bare  necks  and  arms,  held  his  stirrups. 
The  band  made  the  circuit  of  the  square,  saluting  the 
ladies,  and  then  ranged  themselves  in  a  line  with  the 
pavilion  in  which  were  the  ladies  of  their  device.  Their 
herald,  after  a  flourish  of  trumpets,  proclaimed  a  chal- 


REBECCA    FRANKS.  185 

lenge;  asserting  the  superiority  of  the  ladies  of  the 
Blended  Rose,  in  wit,  beauty  and  accomplishment,  and 
offering  to  prove  it  by  deeds  of  arms  according  to  the 
ancient  laws  of  chivalry.  At  the  third  repetition  of  the 
challenge,  another  herald  and  trumpeters  advanced 
from  the  other  side  of  the  square,  dressed  in  black  and 
orange,  and  proclaimed  defiance  to  the  challengers,  in 
the  name  of  the  knights  of  the  Burning  Mountain. 
Captain  Watson,  the  chief,  appeared  in  honor  of  Miss 
Franks;  his  device — a  heart  with  a  wreath  of  flowers; 
his  motto — Love  and  Glory.  This  band  also  rode 
round  the  lists,  and  drew  up  in  front  of  the  White 
Knights.  The  gauntlet  was  thrown  down  and  lifted ; 
the  encounter  took  place.  After  the  fourth  encounter, 
the  two  chiefs,  spurring  to  the  centre,  fought  singly,  till 
the  marshal  of  the  field  rushed  between,  and  declared 
that  the  ladies  of  the  Blended  Rose  and  the  Burning 
Mountain  were  satisfied  with  the  proofs  of  love  and  valor 
already  given,  and  commanded  their  knights  to  desist. 
The  bands  then  filed  off  in  different  directions,  saluting 
the  ladies  as  they  approached  the  pavilions. 

The  company  then  passed  in  procession  through 
triumphal  arches  built  in  the  Tuscan  order,  to  a  garden 
in  front  of  the  building ;  and  thence  ascended  to  a 
spacious  hall  painted  in  imitation  of  Sienna  marble. 
In  this  hall  and  apartment  adjoining,  were  tea  and 
refreshments ;  and  the  knights,  kneeling,  received  their 
favors  from  the  ladies.  On  entering  the  room  appropri 
ated  for  the  faro  table,  a  cornucopia  was  seen  filled  with 
fruit  and  flowers ;  another  appeared  in  going  out,  shrunk, 


186  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

reversed  and  empty.  The  next  advance  was  to  a  ball 
room  painted  in  pale  blue,  pannelled  with  gold,  writh 
dropping  festoons  of  flowers;  the  surbase  pink,  with 
drapery  festooned  in  blue.  Eighty-five  mirrors,  decked 
with  flowers  and  ribbons,  reflected  the  light  from  thirty- 
four  branches  of  wax  lights.  On  the  same  floor  were 
foui  drawing-rooms  with  sideboards  of  refreshments, 
also  decorated  and  lighted  up.  The  dancing  continued 
till  ten ;  the  windows  were  then  thrown  open,  and  the 
fire- works  commenced  with  a  magnificent  bouquet  of 
rockets. 

At  twelve,  large  folding  doors,  wrhich  had  hitherto 
been  concealed,  were  suddenly  thrown  open,  discover 
ing  a  splendid  and  spacious  saloon,  richly  painted,  and 
brilliantly  illuminated ;  the  mirrors  and  branches  deco 
rated,  as  also  the  supper  table ;  which  was  set  out — 
according  to  Major  Andre's  account — with  four  hundred 
and  thirty  covers,  and  twelve  hundred  dishes.  When 
supper  was  ended,  the  herald  and  trumpeters  of  the 
Blended  Rose  entered  the  saloon,  and  proclaimed  the 
health  of  the  king  and  royal  family — followed  by  that 
of  the  knights  and  ladies ;  each  toast  being  accompanied 
by  a  flourish  of  music.  The  company  then  returned  to 
the  ball-room  ;  and  the  dancing  continued  till  four  o'clock. 

This  was  the  most  splendid  entertainment  ever  given 
by  officers  to  their  general.  The  next  day  the  mirrors 
and  lustres  borrowed  from  the  citizens  were  sent  home, 
with  their  ornaments.  The  pageant  of  a  night  was 
over;  Sir  William  Howe  departed.  The  folly  and 
extravagance  displayed  were  apparent  not  only  to  the 


REBECCA    FRANKS.  187 

foes  of  Britain.  It  is  said  that  an  old  Scotch  officer  of 
artillery,  when  asked  if  he  would  be  surprised  at  an 
attack  from  General  Washington  during  the  festivities 
of  the  day,  replied — "If  Mr.  Washington  possess  the 
wisdom  and  sound  policy  I  have  ever  attributed  to  him, 
he  will  not  meddle  with  us  at  such  a  time.  The  excesses 
of  the  present  hour  are  to  him  equivalent  to  a  victory." 

It  is  interesting  to  contrast  the  situation  of  the  two 
hostile  armies  at  this  time ;  and  to  follow  the  destiny  of 
the  revellers.  When  the  alliance  was  concluded  between 
France  and  America,  it  was  determined  in  Great 
Britain  immediately  to  evacuate  Philadelphia,  and  con 
centrate  the  royal  forces  in  the  city  and  harbor  of 
New  York.  In  one  month  knights  and  army  marched 
from  the  city  they  had  occupied.  Major  Andre,  repre 
sented  as  the  charm  of  the  company,  who  had  aided  in 
painting  the  decorations,  and  illustrated  the  pageant  by 
his  pen,  went  forth  to  mingle  in  graver  scenes.  General 
Wayne  writes,  on  the  twelfth  of  July  ;  "  Tell  those 
Philadelphia  ladies  who  attended  Howe's  assemblies 
and  levees,  that  the  heavenly,  sweet,  pretty  redcoats — 
the  accomplished  gentlemen  of  the  guards  and  grena 
diers,  have  been  humbled  on  the  plains  of  Monmouth. 
The  knights  of  the  Blended  Roses,  and  of  the  Burning 
Mount — have  resigned  their  laurels  to  rebel  officers, 
who  will  lay  them  at  the  feet  of  those  virtuous  daughters 
of  America  who  cheerfully  gave  up  ease  and  affluence 
in  a  city,  for  liberty  and  peace  of  mind  in  a  cottage." 

But  the  empire  of  beauty  was  not  to  be  overthrown 
by  political  changes.  The  belles  who  had  graced  the 


188  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

fete  found  the  reproach  cast  on  them  by  indignant 
patriots  speedily  forgotten.  When  the  Americans,  on 
their  return  to  the  capital,  gave  a  ball  to  their  own  and 
the  French  officers,  and  it  was  debated  whether  the 
ladies  of  the  Mischianza  should  be  honored  with  invi 
tations,  the  question  was  soon  decided  by  the  reflection 
that  it  would  be  impossible  to  make  up  an  agreeable 
company  without  them. 


XIV. 


ELIZABETH    FERGUSON. 

THE  old  building  called  the  Carpenter  Mansion,  the 
site  of  which  is  now  occupied  by  the  Arcade  in  Phila 
delphia,  was  the  residence  of  Doctor  Thomas  Graeme, 
the  father  of  Mrs.  Ferguson.  He  was  a  native  of  Scot 
land  ;  distinguished  as  a  physician  in  the  city  ;  and  for 
some  time  was  colonial  collector  of  the  port.  He  mar 
ried  Anne,  the  daughter  of  Sir  William  Keith,  then 
Governor  of  Pennsylvania. 

More  than  thirty  years  before  the  Revolution,  when 
these  premises  were  occupied  by  Governor  Thomas, 
the  fruit-trees,  garden,  and  shrubbery  often  allured  the 
townsfolk  to  extend  their  walks  thither.  The  youth  of 
that  day  were  frequently  indebted  to  the  kindness  of 
the  Governor's  lady,  who  invited  them  to  help  them 
selves  from  a  long  range  of  cherry-trees  ;  and  when 
May  day  came,  the  young  girls  were  treated  to  bou 
quets  and  wreaths  from  the  gardens.  After  the  death 
of  Dr.  Graeme,  in  1772,  the  property  passed  succes 
sively  into  different  hands.  In  time  of  the  war,  the 
house  was  appropriated  for  the  use  of  the  sick  Ameri 
can  soldiery,  who  died  there  in  hundreds,  of  the  camp 


190  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

fever.  The  sufferers  were  supplied  with  nourishmer 
by  the  ladies  of  Philadelphia  ;  and  General  Washington 
himself  sent  them  a  cask  of  Madeira,  which  he  had 
received  as  a  present  from  Robert  Morris.  The  man 
sion  was  the  scene,  moreover,  of  a  most  touching  spec 
tacle,  on  one  occasion,  when  the  mother  of  a  youth  from 
the  country  came  to  seek  her  son  among  the  dead  in 
the  hospital.  While  mourning  over  him  as  lost  to  her 
for  ever,  she  discerned  signs  of  life,  and  ere  long  he  was 
restored  to  consciousness  in  her  arms.* 

While  occupied  by  Dr.  Graeme,  the  house  was  long 
rendered  attractive  and  celebrated,  not  only  by  his  exu 
berant  hospitality,  but  by  the  talents  and  accomplish 
ments  of  his  youngest  daughter.  She  was  the  centre 
of  the  literary  coteries  of  that  day,  who  were  accus 
tomed  to  meet  at  her  father's  residence.  Even  in  early 
life  she  discovered  a  mind  richly  endowed  with  intel 
lectual  gifts.  These  were  cultivated  with  care  by  her 
excellent  and  accomplished  mother.  She  wras  born  in 
1739.  In  her  youth  she  passed  much  time  in  study; 
for  which,  and  the  cultivation  of  her  poetical  talents, 
opportunities  were  afforded  in  the  pleasant  retreat  where 
her  parents  spent  their  summers — Graeme  Park,  in 
Montgomery  county,  twenty  miles  from  Philadelphia. 
It  is  said  that  the  translation  of  Telemachus  into  Eng 
lish  verse — the  manuscript  volumes  of  which  are  in  the 
Philadelphia  Library — was  undertaken  by  Elizabeth 
Graeme,  as  a  relief  and  diversion  of  her  mind  from  the 
suffering  occasioned  by  a  disappointment  in  love.  After 

*  See  Watson's  Annals  of  Philadelphia, 


ELIZABETH    FERGUSON.  191 

this,  the  failure  of  her  health  induced  her  father  to  send 
her  to  Europe.  Her  mother,  who  had  long  been  declin 
ing,  wished  her  much  to  go,  and  for  a  reason  as  sin 
gular  as  it  is  touching.*  She  believed  the  time  of  her 
death  to  be  at  hand ;  and  felt  that  the  presence  of  her 
beloved  daughter  prevented  that  exclusive  fixing  of  her 
thoughts  and  affections  upon  heavenly  things,  which  in 
her  last  hours  she  desired.  This  distrust  of  the  heart  is 
not  an  uncommon  feeling.  Archbishop  Lightfoot  wish 
ed  to  die  separated  from  his  home  and  family.  A 
mother,  some  years'  ago,  in  her  last  moments  said  to  her 
daughter,  who  sat  weeping  at  her  bedside,  "  Leave  me, 
my  child  ;  I  cannot  die  while  you  are  in  the  room." 
Something  of  the  same  feeling  is  shown  in  an  extract 
from  one  of  Mrs.  Graeme's  letters,  written  to  be  deliver 
ed  after  her  death  :  "  My  trust,"  she  says,  "  is  in  my 
heavenly  Father's  mercies,  procured  arid  promised  by  the 
all-sufficient  merits  of  my  blessed  Saviour ;  so  that  what 
ever  time  it  may  be  before  you  see  this,  or  whatever 
weakness  I  may  be  under  on  my  death-bed,  be  assured 
this  is  my  faith— this  is  my  hope  from  my  youth  up 
until  now." 

Mrs.  Graeme  died,  as  she  expected,  during  the  ab 
sence  of  her  daughter ;  but  left  two  farewell  letters  to 
be  delivered  on  her  return.  These  contained  advice 
respecting  her  future  life  in  the  relations  of  wife  and 

*  See  Hazard's  Pennsylvania  Register,  vol.  iii.,  p.  394,  for  a  memoir 
of  Mrs.  Ferguson,  first  published  in  the  Port-Folio,  from  which  are 
derived  these  particulars  of  her  personal  history.  Some  of  her  letters 
appeared  in  the  Port-Folio. 


192  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

mistress  of  a  household  ;  and  the  most  ardent  expres 
sions  of  maternal  affection.  Elizabeth  remained  a  year 
in  England,  under  the  guardianship  of  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Richard  Peters,  of  Philadelphia,  whose  position  enabled 
him  to  introduce  her  into  the  best  society.  She  was 
sought  for  in  literary  circles,  attracted  the  attention 
of  distinguished  persons  by  her  mental  accomplishments, 
and  was  particularly  noticed  by  the  British  monarch. 
The  celebrated  Dr.  Fothergill,  whom  she  consulted  as  a 
physician,  was  during  his  life  her  friend  and  corres 
pondent. 

Her  return  to  Philadelphia  was  welcomed  by  a 
numerous  circle  of  friends,  wrho  came  to  condole  with 
her  upon  her  mother's  death,  and  to  testify  their  affec 
tionate  remembrance  of  herself.  The  stores  of  infor 
mation  gained  during  her  visit  to  Great  Britain,  where 
she  had  been  "  all  eye,  all  ear,  and  all  grasp,"  were  dis 
pensed  for  the  information  and  entertainment  of  those 
she  loved.  She  now  occupied  the  place  of  her  mother 
in  her  father's  family,  managing  the  house  and  presid 
ing  in  the  entertainment  of  his  visitors.  During  several 
years  of  their  winter  residence  in  the  city,  Saturday 
evenings  were  appropriated  for  the  reception  of  their 
friends,  and  strangers  who  visited  Philadelphia  with  in 
troductions  to  the  family  of  Dr.  Graeme.  The  mansion 
was,  in  fact,  the  head-quarters  of  literature  and  refine 
ment  ;  and  the  hospitality  of  its  owner  rendered  it  an 
agreeable  resort.  Miss  Graeme  was  the  presiding  ge 
nius.  Her  brilliant  intellect,  her  extensive  and  varied 
knowledge,  her  vivid  fancv,  and  cultivated  taste,  offered 


ELIZABETH    FERGUSON.  193 

attractions  which  were  enhanced  by  the  charm  of  her 
graceful  manners. 

It  was  at  one  of  these  evening  assemblies  that  she 
first  saw  Hugh  Henry  Ferguson,  a  young  gentleman 
lately  arrived  in  the  country  from  Scotland.  They 
were -pleased  with  each  other  at  the  first  interview,  be 
ing  congenial  in  literary  tastes,  and  a  love  of  retire 
ment.  The  marriage  took  place  in  a  few  months,  not 
withstanding  that  Ferguson  was  ten  years  younger  than 
Miss  Graeme.  Not  long  after  this  event  her  father 
died,  having  bequeathed  to  his  daughter  the  country- 
seat  in  Montgomery  county,  on  which  she  and  her  hus 
band  continued  to  reside. 

The  happiness  anticipated  by  Mrs.  Ferguson  in 
country  seclusion  and  her  books,  was  of  brief  duration. 
The  discontents  were  increasing  between  Great  Britain 
and  America,  which  resulted  in  the  war  of  Independence. 
It  was  necessary  for  Mr.  Ferguson  to  take  part  with 
one  or  the  other  ;  and  he  decided  according  to  the  pre 
judices  natural  to  his  birth,  by  espousing  the  royal 
cause.  From  this  time  a  separation  took  place  between 
him  and  Mrs.  Ferguson. 

Her  connection  with  certain  political  transactions 
'  exposed  her  for  a  time  to  much  censure  and  mortifi 
cation.  But  there  is  no  reason  to  doubt  the  sincerity 
of  her  declarations  with  regard  to  the  motives  that 
influenced  her  conduct.  Many  of  her  unobtrusive 
charities  testify  to  her  sympathy  with  her  suffering  coun 
trymen.  She  not  only  visited  the  cottages  in  her 
neighborhood  with  supplies  of  clothing,  provisions,  or 
9 


194  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

medicines  for  the  inmates,  but  while  General  Howe 
had  possession  of  Philadelphia,  she  sent  a  quantity  of 
linen  into  the  city,  spun  with  her  own  hands,  and  di 
rected  it  to  be  made  into  shirts  for  the  benefit  of  the 
American  prisoners  taken  at  the  battle  of  Germantown. 

Another  instance  of  her  benevolence  is  character 
istic.  On  hearing,  in  one  of  her  visits  to  the  city,  that 
a  merchant  had  become  reduced,  and  having  been  im 
prisoned  for  debt,  was  suffering  from  want  of  the  com 
forts  of  life,  she  sent  him  a  bed,  and  afterwards  visited 
him  in  prison,  and  put  twenty  dollars  into  his  hands. 
She  refused  to  inform  him  who  was  his  benefactor ; 
but  it  was  discovered  by  his  description  of  her  person 
and  dress.  At  this  time  her  annual  income,  it  is  said, 
was  reduced  to  a  very  limited  sum.  Many  other  secret 
acts  of  charity,  performed  at  the  expense  of  her  personal 
and  habitual  comforts  were  remembered  by  her  friends, 
and  many  instances  of  her  sensibility  and  tender  sym 
pathy  with  all  who  suffered. 

Her  husband  being  engaged  in  the  British  service, 
she  was  favored  by  the  loyalists,  while  treated  with 
respect  at  the  same  time  by  the  other  party  as  an 
American  lady  who  occupied  a  high  social  position.* 
It  was  natural  that  she  should  be  in  some  measure 
influenced  by  attachment  to  the  old  order  of  things, 
and  respect  for  the  civil  institutions  she  had  been  accus 
tomed  to  venerate ;  while  her  desire  for  the  good  of  her 

*The  reader  is  referred  to  the  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 
PRESIDENT  REED,  by  his  grandson,  William  B.  Reed.  Vol.  i.,  381. 
Mrs.  Ferguson's  letters  are  there  quoted,  with  her  narrative,  at  length. 


ELIZABETH    FERGUSON.  195 

countrymen  led  to  ardent  wishes  that  the  desolations 
and  miseries  she  witnessed  might  cease.  It  is  said  she 
often  wept  over  newspapers  containing  details  of  suffer 
ing.  The  sensibility  that  could  not  bear  to  look  on 
the  woes  even  of  the  brute  creation,  must  have  been 
severely  tried  by  the  daily  horrors  of  civil  war.  It  is 
not  surprising,  therefore,  that  she  should  be  eager  to 
seize  any  opportunity  that  offered,  of  being  instrumental 
in  ending  them. 

Immediately  after  the  British  took  possession  of 
Philadelphia,  Mrs.  Ferguson  was  the  bearer  of  a  letter 
from  the  Rev.  Mr.  Duche  to  General  Washington, 
which  greatly  displeased  him,  causing  him  to  express  to 
her  his  disapprobation  of  the  intercourse  she  seemed  to 
have  held  with  the  writer,  and  his  expectation  that  it 
should  be  discontinued.  At  a  later  period  she  came  again 
to  Philadelphia,  under  a  pass  granted  her  by  the  Com 
mander-in-chief,  for  the  purpose  of  taking  leave  of  her 
husband.  She  was  at  the  house  of  her  friend  Charles 
Stedman,  which  chanced  to  be  the  place  appointed  for 
the  residence  of  Governor  Johnstone,  one  of  the  com 
missioners  sent  under  parliamentary  authority  to  settle 
the  differences  between  Great  Britain  and  America. 
She  was  in  company  with  him  three  times ;  the  conversa 
tion  being  general  on  the  first  two  occasions.  His 
declarations,  she  says,  were  so  warm  in  favor  of  Ameri 
can  interests,  that  she  looked  upon  him  as  really  a  friend 
to  her  country.  He  wished,  since  he  could  not  himself 
be  permitted  to  pass  the  lines,  to  find  some  person  who 
would  step  forward  and  act  a  mediatorial  part,  by 


196  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

suggesting  something  to  stop  the  effusion  of  blood  likely 
to  ensue  if  the  war  were  carried  on.  Mrs.  Ferguson 
said  repeatedly,  that  she  believed  the  sentiment  of  the 
people  to  be  in  favor  of  Independence.  "  I  am  certain," 
were  her  \vords  in  the  last  conversation  on  the  subject 
— "that  nothing  short  of  Independence  will  be  accepted." 
Yet  it  does  not  appear  that  her  own  views  were  averse 
to  a  re-union  of  the  two  countries. 

Governor  Johnstone  then  expressed  a  particular  anxiety 
for  the  influence  of  General  Reed ;  and  requested  Mrs. 
Ferguson,  "  if  she  should  see  him,"  to  convey  the  idea, 
that  provided  he  could,  "comformably  to  his  conscience 
and  views  of  things,"  exert  his  influence  to  settle  the 
dispute,  "he  might  command  ten  thousand  guineas,  and 
the  best  post  in  the  government."  In  reply  to  Mrs. 
Ferguson's  question,  if  Mr.  Reed  would  not  look  upon 
such  a  mode  of  obtaining  his  influence  as  a  bribe, 
Johnstone  immediately  disclaimed  any  such  idea  ;  said 
such  a  method  of  proceeding  was  common  in  all  negotia 
tions  ;  and  that  one  might  honorably  make  it  a  man's 
interest  to  step  forth  in  such  a  cause.  She  on  her  part 
expressed  her  conviction  that  if  Mr.  Reed  thought  it 
right  to  give  up  the  point  of  Independence,  he  would 
say  so  without  fee  or  reward ;  and  if  he  were  of  a  differ 
ent  opinion,  no  pecuniary  emolument  would  lead  him 
to  give  a  contrary  vote.  Mr.  Johnstone  did  not  see 
the  matter  in  this  light. 

A  day  or  two  after  this  communication  was  sug 
gested,  Mrs.  Ferguson  sent  by  a  confidential  messenger 
a  note  to  General  Reed,  at  head-quarters,  requesting  an 


ELIZABETH    FERGUSON.  197 

hour's  conversation  previous  to  her  going  to  Lancaster 
on  business,  and  desiring  him  to  fix  a  place  where  she 
could  meet  him  without  the  necessity  of  passing  through 
the  camp.  She  stated  that  the  business  on  which  she 
wished  to  confer  with  him  could  not  be  committed  to 
writing. 

The  note  was  received  on  the  21st  of  June,  after  Gen 
eral  Reed's  arrival  in  the  city,  which  had  been  evacu 
ated  three  days  before  by  the  British.  He  sent  word 
by  the  bearer  that  he  would  wait  upon  Mrs.  Ferguson 
the  same  evening.  At  this  interview,  the  conversation 
treating  of  Governor  Johnstone's  desire  of  settling 
matters  upon  an  amicable  footing,  and  his  favorable 
sentiments  towards  Mr.  Reed,  General  Reed  mentioned 
that  he  had  received  a  letter  from  him  at  Valley  Forge. 
Mrs.  Ferguson  then  repeated,  in  all  its  particulars,  the 
conversation  that  had  passed  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Sted- 
man.  Her  repetition  of  the  proposition  of  Governor 
Johnstone  brought  from  General  Reed  the  prompt  and 
noble  reply :  "  I  AM  NOT  WORTH  PURCHASING  ;  BUT  SUCH 

AS  I  AM.  THE  KING  OF  GREAT  BRITAIN  IS  NOT  RICH 
ENOUGH  TO  DO  IT." 

General  Reed  laid  before  Congress  both  the  written 
and  verbal  communications  of  Governor  Johnstone; 
withholding,  however,  the  name  of  the  lady,  from  mo 
tives  of  delicacy,  and  reluctance  to  draw  down  popular 
indignation  upon  her.  An  account  of  the  transaction 
was  also  published  in  the  papers  of  the  day.  It  was 
useless  to  attempt  concealment  of  her  name  ;  suspicion 
was  at  once  directed  to  her  ;  and  her  name  was  called 


198  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

for  by  a  resolution  of  the  Executive  Council  of  Penn 
sylvania.*'  Congress  issued  a  declaration  condemning 
the  daring  and  atrocious  attempts  made  to  corrupt  their 
integrity,  and  declaring  it  incompatible  with  their  honor 
to  hold  any  manner  of  correspondence  with  the  said 
George  Johnstone.  As  may  be  imagined,  disagreeable 
consequences  ensued,  which  were  severely  felt  by  Mrs. 
Ferguson.  As  soon  as  she  saw  the  article  in  Towne's 
Evening  Post,  which  reached  her  at  Graeme  Park, 
July  26th,  1778,  she  addressed  a  letter  of  remonstrance 
to  General  Reed,  bitterly  complaining  of  having  been 
exhibited  in  the  newspapers  as  a  mere  emissary  of  the 
commissioners.  "  I  own  I  find  it  hard,"  she  says, 
"knowing  the  uncorruptness  of  my  heart,  to  be  held 
out  to  the  public  as  a  tool  to  the  commissioners.  But 
the  impression  is  now  made,  and  it  is  too  late  to  recall 
it.  How  far,  at  this  critical  juncture  of  time,  this 
affair  may  injure  my  property,  is  uncertain ;  that,  I 
assure  you,  is  but  a  secondary  thought. "f 

It  appears  evident  that  Mrs.  Ferguson  did  not  act 
this  part  in  any  expectation  of  deriving  advantage  for 
herself.  Her  associations  and  connections  being  chiefly 
with  the  royalists,  it  was  natural  that  her  opinions 

*  "  The  attempt  through  the  wife  of  a  loyalist  to  bribe  a  member  of 
Congress  to  aid  in  uniting  the  Colonies  to  the  mother  country,  proved 
of  incalculable  service  in  recalling  the  doubting  and  irresolute  whigs 
to  a  sense  of  duty.  The  story,  and  the  noble  reply,  were  repeated 
from  mouth  to  mouth;  and  from  the  hour  it  was  known,  the  whigs 
had  won — the  tories  lost — the  future  empire." — Sabine's  American 
Loyalists. 

t  Letter  published  in  the  Remembrancer,  vol.  vi. 


ELIZABETH    FERGUSON.  199 

should  be  influenced  by  theirs ;  but  her  desire  for  the 
good  of  the  country  was  undoubtedly  disinterested. 
After  the  return  of  Governor  Johnstone  to  England,  he 
ventured  to  deny  the  charge  preferred  in  the  resolutions 
of  Congress,  by  a  letter  published  in  Rivington's  Ga 
zette  ;  and  in  a  speech  in  November  in  the  House  of 
Commons,  boldly  asserted  the  falsehood  of  the  statement 
made  by  General  Reed.  His  denial  no  sooner  reached 
America,  than  Mrs.  Ferguson,  anxious  that  justice 
should  be  done  to  all  parties,  published  her  narrative  of 
the  transaction,  confirmed  by  her  oath.  The  excellence 
of  the  motives  which  had  actuated  her  in  consenting  to 
act  as  Johnstone's  confidential  agent,  is  sufficiently  ap 
parent  in  the  spirit  she  now  exhibited. 

"  Among  the  many  mortifying  insinuations  that  have 
been  hinted  on  the  subject,  none  has  so  sensibly  affected 
rne,  as  an  intimation  that  some  thought  I  acted  a  part, 
in  consequence  of  certain  expectations  of  a  post,  or 
some  preferment  from  Mr.  Johnstone,  to  be  conferred 
on  the  person  dearest  to  me  on  earth.  On  that  head  I 
shall  say  no  more,  but  leave  it  to  any  person  of  common 
sense  to  determine,  if  I  had  any  views  of  that  kind, 
whether  I  should,  in  so  full  and  solemn  a  manner,  call 
in  question  what  Mr.  Johnstone  has  asserted  in  the 
House  of  Commons.  A  proceeding  of  this  kind  must 
totally  exclude  all  avenues  of  favor  from  that  quarter, 
were  there  ever  any  expected,  which  I  solemnly  declare 
never  was  the  case.  If  this  account  should  ever  have 
the  honor  to  be  glanced  over  by  the  eye  of  Governor 
Johnstone,  I  know  not  in  what  medium  he  may  view  it. 


200  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

It  is  possible  that  the  multiplicity  of  ideas,  which  may 
be  supposed  to  pass  through  the  brain  of  a  politician  in 
the  course  of  a  few  mon-ths,  may  have  jostled  the  whole 
transaction  out  of  his  memory.  Should  this  be  the 
case,  insignificant  and  contemptible  as  I  may  appear  to 
him,  I  believe  there  are  two  or  three  people  in  Britain 
who  will  venture  to  tell  him,  in  all  his  plenitude  of 
power,  that  they  believe  I  would  not  set  my  hand  to  an 
untruth." 

Mrs.  Ferguson's  poetical  talent  has  been  mentioned. 
Her  verses  were  said  to  possess  vigor  and  measure,  but 
to  lack  melody,  while  her  prose  writings  indicated  both 
genius  and  knowledge.  She  was  well  read  in  polemical 
divinity,  and  a  firm  believer  in  the  doctrines  of  revela 
tion.  She  is  said  to  have  transcribed  the  whole  Bible, 
to  impress  its  contents  more  deeply  upon  her  mind  ; 
hence  the  facility  with  which  she  would  select  appro 
priate  passages  to  illustrate  or  adorn  the  subjects  of 
her  writings  or  conversation. 

She  had  no  children,  but  adopted  the  son  and  daughter 
of  one  of  her  sisters,  who  on  her  death-bed  committed 
them    to   her   care.       The   nephew,    an    accomplished t 
scholar  and  gentleman,  was  till  his  death  a  lieutenant 
in  the  British  army. 

The  talents  and  attainments  of  Mrs.  Ferguson,  her 
virtues,  elevated  and  invigorated  by  Christian  faith, 
her  independence  and  integrity  of  character,  and  her 
benevolent  feeling  for  others — endeared  her  name  to  a 
large  circle  of  friends.  Yet  her  life  appears  to  have 
been  one  darkened  by  sorrow.  In  her  later  years,  the 


ELIZABETH    FERGUSON.  201 

reduction  of  her  income  diminished  her  means  of  useful 
ness  ;  but  she  would  not  permit  any  privations  to  which 
she  found  it  necessary  to  submit,  to  be  a  source  of  un- 
happiness. 

She  died  at  the  house  of  a  friend  near  Graeme  Park, 
on  the  twenty- third  of  February,  1801,  in  the  sixty- 
second  year  of  her  age. 


XV. 


MARY    PHILIPSE. 

IN  1756,  Colonel  George  Washington,  then  com- 
mander-in-chief  of  the  Virginia  forces,  had  some  diffi 
culties  concerning  rank  with  an  officer  holding  a  royal 
commission.  He  found  it  necessary  to  communicate 
with  General  Shirley,  the  commander-in-chief  of  His 
Majesty's  armies  in  America ;  and  for  this  purpose  left 
his  head-quarters  at  Winchester,  and  travelled  to 
Boston  on  horse-back,  attended  by  his  aids-de-camp. 
On  his  way,  he  stopped  in  some  of  the  principal  cities. 
The  military  fame  he  had  gained,  and  the  story  of  his 
remarkable  escape  at  Braddock's  defeat,  excited  general 
curiosity  to  see  the  brave  young  hero ;  and  great  atten 
tion  was  paid  to  him.  While  in  New  York,  says  his 
biographer,  Mr.  Sparks,  "he  was  entertained  at  the 
nouse  of  Mr.  Beverley  Robinson,  between  whom  and 
himself  an  intimacy  of  friendship  subsisted,  which 
indeed  continued  without  change,  till  severed  by  their 
opposite  fortunes  twenty  years  afterwards  in  the  Revo 
lution.  It  happened  that  Miss  Mary  Philipse,  a  sister 


MARY    FHILIPSE.  203 

of  Mrs.  Robinson,  and  a  young  lady  of  rare  accomplish 
ments,  was  an  inmate  in  the  family.  The  charms  of 
this  lady  made  a  deep  impression  upon  the  heart  of  the 
Virginia  Colonel.  He  went  to  Boston,  returned,  and 
was  again  welcomed  to  the  hospitality  of  Mrs,  Robinson. 
He  lingered  there  till  duty  called  him  away ;  but  he  was 
careful  to  entrust  his  secret  to  a  confidential  friend, 
whose  letters  kept  him  informed  of  every  important 
event.  In  a  few  months  intelligence  came  that  a  rival 
was  in  the  field,  and  that  the  consequences  could  not  be 
answered  for,  if  he  delayed  to  renew  his  visits  to  New 
York." 

Washington  could  not  at  this  time  leave  his  post, 
however  deeply  his  feelings  may  have  been  interested 
in  securing  the  favor  of  the  fair  object  of  his  admiration. 
The  fact  that  his  friend  thought  fit  to  communicate 
thus  repeatedly  with  him  upon  the  subject,  does  not 
favor  the  supposition  that  his  regard  was  merely  a 
passing  fancy,  or  that  the  bustle  of  camp-life,  or  the 
scenes  of  war,  had  effaced  her  image  from  his  heart. 
Mr.  Sparks  assures  me  that  the  letters  referred  to,  which 
were  from  a  gentleman  connected  with  the  Robinson 
family,  though  playful  in  their  tone,  were  evidently 
written  under  the  belief  that  an  attachment  existed  on 
Washington's  part,  and  that  his  happiness  was  concern 
ed.  How  far  the  demonstrations  of  this  attachment  had 
gone,  it  is  now  impossible  to  ascertain ;  nor  whether 
Miss  Philipse  had  discouraged  the  Colonel's  attentions 
so  decidedly  as  to  preclude  all  hope.  The  probability 


204  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

is,  however,  that  he  despaired  of  success.  He  never 
saw  her  again  till  after  her  marriage  with  Captain  Roger 
Morris,  the  rival  of  whom  he  had  been  warned. 

Mary  Philipse  was  the  daughter  of  the  Hon.  Frede 
rick  Philipse,  Speaker  of  the  Assembly.  He  was  lord 
of  the  old  manor  of  Philipsborough,  and  owned  an  im 
mense  landed  estate  on  the  Hudson.  Mary  was  born 
at  the  Manor  Hall,  on  the  third  of  July,  1730.  No 
particulars  relating  to  her  early  life  can  be  given  by  her 
relatives ;  but  the  tradition  is,  that  she  was  beautiful, 
fascinating,  and  accomplished.  A  lady  now  living  in 
New  York,  who  knew  her  after  she  became  Mrs.  Mor 
ris,  and  had  visited  her  at  her  residence  near  the  city, 
tells  me  that  she  was  one  of  the  most  elegant  women 
she  had  ever  seen  ;  and  that  her  manners,  uniting  dig 
nity  with  affability,  charmed  every  one  who  knew  her. 
The  rumor  of  Washington's  former  attachment  was 
then  current,  and  universally  believed.  Her  house  was 
the  resort  of  many  visitors  at  all  seasons.  She  removed 
to  New  York  after  her  marriage,  in  1758,  with  Roger 
Morris,  who  was  a  captain  in  the  British  army  in  the 
French  war,  and  one  of  Braddock's  aids-de-camp.  A 
part  of  the  Philipse  estate  came  by  right  of  his  wife 
into  his  possession,  and  was  taken  from  him  by  confis 
cation,  in  punishment  for  his  loyalism.  Mrs.  Morris 
was  included  in  the  attainder,  that  the  whole  interest 
might  pass  under  the  act.%  The  rights  of  her  children, 

*  The  authentic  facts  relating  to  Captain  Morris  and  Colonel  Robin 
son,  and  to  their  wives,  have  been  preserved  by  Mr.  Sabine  in  his 
"  American  Loyalists."  He  visited  the  relatives  of  the  family  in  New 
Brunswick. 


MARY    PHILIPSE.  205 

however,  as  time  showed,  were  not  affected ;  and  the 
reversionary  interest  was  sold  by  them  to  John  Jacob 
Astor. 

The  descendants  of  Mrs.  Robinson,  the  sister  of 
Mary  Morris,  speak  of  her  with  warm  praise,  as  one 
who  possessed  high  qualities  of  mind,  and  great  excel 
lence  of  character.  To  one  of  these,  a  gentleman  high 
in  office  in  New  Brunswick,  the  author  of  the  'Loyal 
ists'  once  remarked  in  conversation,  that  there  was 
some  difference  to  his  aunt,  between  being  the  wife 
of  the  Commander-in-chief — the  first  President  of  the 
United  States,  and  the  wife  of  an  exile  and  an  outlaw 
— herself  attainted  of  treason.  The  tables  were  turned 
upon  him  by  the  reply,  that  Mrs.  Morris  had  been  re 
markable  for  fascinating  all  who  approached  her,  and 
moulding  every  body  to  her  will ;  and  that  had  she  mar 
ried  Washington,  it  could  not  be  certain  that  she  would 
not  have  kept  him  to  his  allegiance.  "  Indeed,  Wash 
ington  \vould  not,  could  not  have  been  a  traitor  with 
such  a  wife  as  Aunt  Morris."  Without  dwelling  on 
the  possibilities  of  such  a  contingency,  one  can  hardly 
think,  without  some  degree  of  national  shame,  that  a 
lady  whom  we  have  every  reason  to  believe  had  been 
the  object  of  Washington's  love,  "should  be  attainted 
of  treason  for  clinging  to  the  fortunes  of  her  hus 
band." 

Mrs.  Morris  died  in  England  in  1825,  at  the  ad 
vanced  age  of  ninety-six.  The  portrait  of  her  is  en 
graved  from  an  original  painting  taken  after  her  mar 
riage,  and  now  in  the  possession  of  her  namesake  and 


206  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

grandniece,  Mrs.  Governeur,  who  resides  at  "  Highland 
Grange,"  Philipstown,  in  the  Highlands.  It  is  stated  in 
the  History  of  Westchester  County,  that  Miss  Mary 
Philipse  was  the  original  of  the  lovely  character  of 
Frances,  in  Mr.  Cooper's  novel  of  "  The  Spy :"  this  is 
incorrect. 


SUSANNAH,  the  sister  of  Mary  Philipse,  was  the  wife 
of  Beverley  Robinson  of  New  York.  There  is  some 
ground  for  the  belief  that  she  actually  exercised  over 
her  husband's  mind  some  portion  of  the  influence  said 
to  have  been  possessed  by  her  sister ;  for  it  appears  that 
he  was  at  first  disinclined  to  take  any  active  part  in  the 
contest  between  the  Colonies  and  Great  Britain.  He 
was  so  much  opposed  to  the  measures  of  the  ministry, 
that  he  would  not  use  imported  merchandise  ;  but  was 
at  length  prevailed  on  by  his  friends  to  enter  the  royal 
service.  As  before-mentioned,  he  and  Washington 
were  intimate  friends  before  they  were  separated  by 
difference  of  political  opinion.  "  The  Robinson  house," 
which  had  been  confiscated  with  the  lands,  was  occu 
pied  by  Arnold  as  his  head-quarters,  and  by  Washing 
ton  at  the  time  of  Arnold's  treason. 

When  Colonel  Robinson  gave  up  the  quiet  enjoy 
ment  of  country  life,  his  wife  took  her  share  of  the  out 
lawry  that  awaited  him ;  she,  as  well  as  her  sister, 
being  included  in  the  act  of  confiscation.  After  their 
removal  to  England,  they  lived  in  retirement.  She 
died  near  Bath,  at  the  age  of  ninety-four,  in  1822.  Her 


MARY    PHILTPSE.  207 

descendants  in  New  Brunswick  preserve,  among  other 
relics  of  the  olden  time,  a  silver  tea-urn,  of  rich  and 
massive  workmanship,  said  to  be  the  first  of  such 
articles  used  in  America. 


XVI. 


SARAH    REEVE    GIBBES. 

THE  failure  of  the  British  commissioners  to  conclude 
an  amicable  adjustment  of  differences  between  the  two 
countries — and  the  ill  success  of  the  effort  to  gain  their 
ends  by  private  intrigue  and  bribery — annihilated  the 
hopes  of  those  who  had  desired  the  acceptance  by  Con 
gress  of  terms  of  accommodation.  War  was  now  the 
only  prospect ;  the  reduction  of  the  Colonies  to  obedi 
ence  by  force  of  arms,  or  the  establishment  of  national 
Independence  by  a  protracted  struggle.  The  move 
ments  and  expeditions  which  succeeded  the  battle  of 
Monmouth — the  incursion  of  the  Indians  and  tories 
under  Colonel  John  Butler  and  Brandt,  for  the  destruc 
tion  of  the  settlement  in  the  lovely  valley  of  Wyoming 
— the  terrible  tragedy  of  July,  with  the  retaliatory  ex 
peditions  against  the  Indians — and  the  repetition  of 
the  barbarities  of  Wyoming  at  Cherry  Valley,  in  No 
vember — were  the  prominent  events  that  took  place  in 
the  middle  and  northern  sections  of  the  country  during 
the  remainder  of  1778.  The  scene  of  important  action 
was  now  changed  to  the  South.  In  November,  Count 
D'Estaing,  with  the  French  fleet,  sailed  for  the  West 


SARAH  REEVE  GIBBES.  209 

Indies,  to  attack  the  British  dependencies  in  that  quar 
ter.  General  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  on  his  part,  despatched 
Colonel  Campbell  from  New  York,  on  an  expedition 
against  Georgia,  the  feeblest  of  the  southern  provinces. 
His  troops  landed  late  in  December  near  Savannah, 
which  was  then  defended  by  the  American  general, 
Robert  Howe.  His  small  force  being  enfeebled  by 
sickness,  defeat  was  the  consequence  of  an  attack  ;  and 
the  remnant  of  the  American  army  retreated  into 
South  Carolina.  The  British  having  obtained  posses 
sion  of  the  capital  of  Georgia,  the  plan  of  reducing 
that  State  and  South  Carolina  was  vigorously  prose 
cuted  in  1779,  while  the  armies  of  Washington  and 
Clinton  were  employed  in  the  northern  section  of  the 
Union.  Soon  after  the  fall  of  Savannah,  General  Pre- 
vost,  with  troops  from  East  Florida,  took  possession  of 
the  only  remaining  military  post  in  Georgia ;  and  join 
ing  his  forces  to  those  of  Colonel  Campbell,  assumed 
the  chief  command  of  the  royal  army  at  the  South. 
The  loyalists  who  came  along  the  western  frontier  of 
Carolina  to  join  his  standard,  committed  great  devas 
tations  and  cruelties  on  their  way.  General  Lincoln, 
who  commanded  the  continental  forces  in  the  southern 
department,  sent  a  detachment  under  General  Ashe 
across  the  Savannah,  to  repress  the  incursions  of  the 
enemy,  and  confine  them  to  the  low  country  near  the 
sea  coast.  The  surprise  and  defeat  of  this  detachment 
by  Prevost,  completed  the  subjugation  of  Georgia.  But 
in  April  General  Lincoln  entered  the  field  anew,  and 
leaving  Moultrie  to  watch  Prevost's  movements,  com- 


210  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

menced  his  march  up  the  left  bank  of  the  Savannah, 
and  crossed  into  Georgia  near  Augusta,  with  the  inten 
tion  of  advancing  on  the  capital.  Prevost  attacked 
Moultrie  and  Pulaski,  compelling  them  to  retreat ;  and 
then  hurried  to  place  himself  before  Charleston.  From 
this  position,  however,  he  was  obliged  to  withdraw  on 
Lincoln's  approach.  He  proceeded  to  the  island  of  St. 
John's,  separated  from  the  mainland  by  an  inlet  called 
Stono  River ;  and  leaving  a  division  at  Stono  Ferry, 
retired  with  a  part  of  his  force  towards  Savannah.  On 
the  20th  June,  Lincoln  attacked  the  division  at  Stono 
Ferry,  but  was  repulsed.  The  British  soon  after  estab 
lished  a  post  at  Beaufort,  and  the  main  body  of  the 
army  retired  to  Savannah.  For  some  months  the  hot 
and  sickly  season  prevented  further  action  on  either 
side. 

The  siege  of  Savannah  under  D'Estaing  and  Lincoln 
took  place  early  in  October,  1779.  The  Americans 
were  repulsed,  the  gallant  Pulaski  receiving  his  death- 
wound  ;  and  the  enterprise  was  abandoned.  The  French 
fleet  departed  from  the  coast ;  and  General  Lincoln  re 
treated  into  South  Carolina.  A  cloud  of  despondency 
hung  over  the  close  of  this  year.  The  flattering  hopes 
inspired  by  the  alliance  with  France  had  not  been  re 
alized.  The  continental  army  reduced  in  numbers  and 
wretchedly  clothed — the  treasury  empty — the  paper 
currency  rapidly  diminishing  in  value — distress  was 
brought  on  all  classes,  and  the  prospect  seemed  more 
than  ever  dark  and  discouraging.  On  the  other  hand, 
Britain  displayed  new  resources,  and  made  renewed  exer- 


SARAH    REEVE    GIBBES.  211 

tions,  notwithstanding  the  formidable  combination 
against  her.  Sir  Henry  Clinton  determined  to  make 
the  South  his  most  important  field  of  operations  for  the 
future,  and  planned  the  campaign  of  1780  on  an  ex 
tensive  scale.  He  arrived  in  Georgia  late  in  January, 
and  early  in  the  succeeding  month  left  Savannah  for 
the  siege  of  Charleston,  then  defended  by  General  Lin 
coln.  The  fleet  of  Arbuthnot  was  anchored  in  the  har 
bor,  and  the  British  overran  the  country  on  the  left 
side  of  the  Cooper  river.  The  surrender  of  Charleston 
on  the  twelfth  of  May,  seemed  to  secure  the  recovery 
of  the  southern  section  of  the  Union ;  and  Clinton  im 
mediately  set  about  re-establishing  the  royal  govern 
ment. 

The  foregoing  brief  glance  at  the  course  of  events 
during  the  two  years  succeeding  the  evacuation  of 
Philadelphia,  is  necessary  to  prepare  the  reader  for  the 
southern  sketches  that  follow. 


A  FEW  hundred  yards  from  a  fine  landing  on  Stono 
River,  upon  John's  Island,  about  two  hours'  sail  from 
Charleston,  stands  a  large,  square,  ancient-looking  man 
sion,  strongly  built  of  brick,  with  a  portico  fronting  the 
river.  On  the  side  towards  the  road,  the  wide  piazza 
overlooks  a  lawn ;  and  a  venerable  live  oak,  with  aspen, 
sycamore,  and  other  trees,  shade  it  from  the  sun. 
On  either  side  of  the  house,  about  twenty  yards  distant, 
stands  a  smaller  two  story  building,  connected  with  the 
main  building  by  a  neat  open  fence.  In  one  of  these 


WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

is  the  kitchen  and  out-offices  ;  the  other  was  formerly 
the  school-house  and  tutor's  dwelling.  Beyond  are  the 
barns,  the  overseer's  house,  and  the  negro  huts  apper 
taining  to  a  plantation.  The  garden  in  old  times  was 
very  large  and  well-cultivated,  being  laid  out  in  wide 
walks,  and  extending  from  the  mansion  to  the  river. 
The  "  river  walk,"  on  the  verge  of  a  bluff  eight  or  ten 
feet  in  height,  followed  the  bending  of  the  water,  and 
was  bordered  with  orange-trees.  Tall  hedges  of  the 
ever-green  wild  orange-tree  divided  the  flower  from  the 
vegetable  garden,  and  screened  from  view  the  family 
burial-ground.  The  beautifully  laid  out  grounds,  and 
shaded  walks,  gave  this  place  a  most  inviting  aspect, 
rendering  it  such  an  abode  as  its  name  of  "  Peaceful 
Retreat"  indicated. 

At  the  period  of  the  Revolution  this  mansion  was 
well  known  throughout  the  country  as  the  seat  of  hos 
pitality  and  elegant  taste.  Its  owner,  Robert  Gibbes, 
was  a  man  of  cultivated  mind  and  refined  manners — 
one  of  those  gentlemen  of  the  old  school,  of  whom  South 
Carolina  has  justly  made  her  boast.  Early  in  life  he 
became  a  martyr  to  the  gout,  by  which  painful  disease 
his  hands  and  feet  were  so  contracted  and  crippled  that 
he  was  deprived  of  their  use.  The  only  exercise  he 
was  able  to  take,  was  in  a  chair  on  wheels,  in  which  he 
was  placed  every  day,  and  by  the  assistance  of  a  ser 
vant,  moved  about  the  house,  and  through  the  garden. 
The  circuit  through  these  walks  and  along  the  river, 
formed  his  favorite  amusement.  Unable,  by  reason  of 
his  misfortune,  to  take  an  active  part  in  the  war,  his 


SARAH  REEVE  GIBBES.  213 

feelings  were  nevertheless  warmly  enlisted  on  the 
republican  side ;  and  his  house  was  ever  open  for  the 
reception  and  entertainment  of  the  friends  of  liberty. 
He  had  married  Miss  Sarah  Reeve,  she  being  at  the 
time  about  eighteen  years  of  age.  Notwithstanding 
her  youth,  she  had  given  evidence  that  she  possessed  a 
mind  of  no  common  order.  The  young  couple  had  a 
house  in  Charleston,  but  spent  the  greater  part  of  their 
time  at  their  country-seat  and  plantation  upon  John's 
Island.  Here  Mrs.  Gibbes  devoted  herself  with  earnest 
ness  to  the  various  duties  before  her;  for  in  consequence  of 
her  husband's  infirmities,  the  management  of  an 
extensive  estate,  with  the  writing  on  business  it  required 
— devolved  entirely  upon  her.  In  addition  to  a  large 
family  of  her  own,  she  had  the  care  of  the  seven  orphan 
children  of  Mrs.  Fenwick,  the  sister  of  Mr.  Gibbes,  who 
at  her  death  had  left  them  and  their  estate  to  his  guard 
ianship.  Two  other  children — one  her  nephew,  Robert 
Barnwell — were  added  to  her  charge.  The  multiplied 
cares  involved  in  meeting  all  these  responsibilities,  with 
the  superintendence  of  household  concerns,  required  a 
rare  degree  of  energy  and  activity ;  yet  the  mistress  of 
this  well  ordered  establishment  had  always  a  ready 
and  cordial  welcome  for  her  friends,  dispensing  the 
hospitalities  of  "Peaceful  Retreat,"  with  a  grace  and 
cheerful  politeness  that  rendered  it  a  most  agreeable 
resort. 

It  wjis  doubtless  the  fame  of  the  luxurious  living  at 
this  delightful  country-seat — which  attracted  the  atten 
tion  of  the  British  during  the  invasion  of  Prevost,  while 


214  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

the   royal  army  kept   possession  of  the    seaboard.     A 
battalion  of  British  and  Hessians,  determined  to  quarter 
themselves  in  so  desirable  a  spot,  arrived  at  the  landing 
at  the  dead  of  night,  and  marching  up  in  silence,  sur 
rounded   the   house.     The  day  had  not  yet  begun    to 
dawn,  when  an   aged  and  faithful  servant  tapped  softly 
at  the  door  of  Mrs.  Gibbes'  apartment.     The  whisper — 
"Mistress,  the  redcoats  are  all  around  the  house,"  was 
the  first  intimation  given  of  their  danger.     "Tell   no 
one,  Csesar,  but  keep  all  quiet,"  she  replied  promptly ; 
and    her   preparations   were    instantly   commenced   to 
receive  the  intruders.     Having  dressed  herself  quickly, 
she   went   up  stairs,  waked    several   ladies    who    were 
guests  in  the  house,  and  requested  them  to  rise  and  dress 
with  all  possible  haste.     In  the  mean  time  the  domestics 
were  directed  to  prepare  the  children,  of  whom,  with 
her   own  eight  and  those  under  her  care,  there  were 
sixteen  ;  the  eldest  being  only  fifteen  years  old.     These 
were    speedily  dressed    and    seated     in    the    spacious 
hall.     Mrs.   Gibbes  then  assisted  her  husband,  as  was 
always   her   custom — to  rise  and  dress,   and  had   him 
placed   in    his   rolling   chair.     All  these   arrangements 
were  made  without  the  least,  confusion,  and  so  silently, 
that  the  British  had  no  idea  any  one  was  yet  awake,, 
within  the  house.     The  object  of  Mrs.  Gibbes  was  to 
prevent  violence  on  the  enemy's  part,  by  showing  them 
at  once  that  the  mansion  was  inhabited  only  by  those 
who  were  unable  to  defend  themselves.     The  impres 
sive  manner  in  which  this  was  done  produced  its  effect. 
The  invaders  had  no  knowledge  that  the  inmates  were 


SARAH    REEVE    GIBBES.  215 

aware  of  their  presence,  till  daylight,  when  they  heard 
the  heavy  rolling  of  Mr.  Gibbes'  chair  across  the  great 
hall  towards  the  front  door.  Supposing  the  sound  to  be 
the  rolling  of  a  cannon,  the  soldiers  advanced,  and  stood 
prepared  with  pointed  bayonets  to  rush  in,  when  the 
signal  for  assault  should  be  given.  But  as  the  door 
was  thrown  open,  and  the  stately  form  of  the  invalid 
presented  itself,  surrounded  by  women  and  children, 
they  drew  back,  and — startled  into  an  involuntary  expres 
sion  of  respect — presented  arms.  Mr.  Gibbes  addressed 
them-^-yielding,  of  course,  to  the  necessity  that  could 
not  be  resisted.  The  officers  took  immediate  possession 
of  the  house,  leaving  the  premises  to  their  men,  and 
extending  no  protection  against  pillage.  The  soldiers 
roved  at  their  pleasure  about  the  plantation,  helping 
themselves  to  whatever  they  chose  ;  breaking  into  the 
wme  room,  drinking  to  intoxication,  and  seizing  upon  * 
and  carrying  off  the  negroes.  A  large  portion  of  the 
plate  was  saved  by  the  provident  care  of  a  faithful 
servant,  who  secretly  buried  it.  Within  the  mansion, 
the  energy  and  self-possession  of  Mrs.  Gibbes  still  pro 
tected  her  family.  The  appearance  of  terror  or  confu 
sion  might  have  tempted  the  invaders  to  incivility  ; 
but  it  was  impossible  for  them  to  treat  otherwise  than 
with  deference,  a  lady  whose  calm  and  quiet  deport 
ment  commanded  their  respect.  Maintaining  her 
place  as  mistress  of  her  household,  and  presiding  at  her 
table,  she  treated  her  uninvited  guests  with  a  dignified 
courtesy  that  ensured  civility  while  it  prevented  pre 
sumptuous  familiarity.  The  boldest  and  rudest  among 


216  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

them  bowed  involuntarily  to  an  influence  which  fear  or 
force  could  not  have  secured. 

When  the  news  reached  Charleston  that  the  British  had 
encamped  on  Mr.  Gibbes's  plantation,  the  authorities  in 
that  city  despatched  two  galleys  to  dislodge  them. 
These  vessels  ascended  the  river  in  the  night,  and 
arriving  opposite,  opened  a  heavy  fire  upon  the  invaders' 
encampment.  The  men  had  received  strict  injunctions 
not  to  fire  upon  the  house,  for  fear  of  injury  to  any  of 
the  family.  It  could  not,  however,  be  known  to  Mr. 
Gibbes  that  such  a  caution  had  been  given  ;  and  as 
soon  as  the  Americans  began  their  fire,  dreading  some 
accident,  he  proposed  to  his  wife  that  they  should  take 
the  children  and  seek  a  place  of  greater  safety.  Their 
horses  being  in  the  enemy's  hands,  they  had  no  means 
of  conveyance  ;  but  Mrs.  Gibbes,  with  energies  roused 
to  exertion  by  the  danger,  and  anxious  only  to  secure 
shelter  for  her  helpless  charge,  set  off  to  walk  with  the 
children  to  an  adjoining  plantation  situated  in  the 
interior.  A  drizzling  rain  was  falling,  and  the  weather 
was  extremely  chilly ;  the  fire  was  incessant  from  the 
American  guns,  and  sent — in  order  to  avoid  the  house — 
in  a  direction  which  was  in  a  range  with  the  course  of 
the  fugitives.  The  shot,  falling  around  them,  cut  the 
bushes,  and  struck  the  trees  on  every  side.  Exposed 
each  moment  to  this  imminent  danger,  they  continued 
their  flight  with  as  much  haste  as  possible,  for  about  a 
mile,  till  beyond  the  reach  of  the  shot. 

Having  reached  the  houses  occupied  by  the  negro 
laborers  on  the  plantation,  they  stopped  for  a  few 


SARAH    REEVE    GIBBES.  217 

moments  to  rest.  Mrs.  Gibbes,  wet,  chilled,  and  exhaust 
ed  by  fatigue  and  mental  anxiety,  felt  her  strength 
utterly  fail,  and  was  obliged  to  wrap  herself  in  a  blanket 
and  lie  down  upon  one  of  the  beds.  It  was  at  this 
time,  when  the  party  first  drew  breath  freely — with 
thankfulness  that  the  fears  of  death  were  over — that 
on  reviewing  the  trembling  group  to  ascertain  if  all 
had  escaped  uninjured,  it  was  found  that  a  little  boy, 
John  Fenwick,  was  missing.  In  the  hurry  and  terror 
of  their  flight  the  child  had  been  forgotten  and  left 
behind!  What  was  now  to  be  done?  The  servants 
refused  to  risk  their  lives  by  returning  for  him  ;  and  in 
common  humanity,  Mr.  Gibbes  could  not  insist  that 
any  one  should  undertake  the  desperate  adventure. 
The  roar  of  the  distant  guns  was  still  heard,  breaking  at 
short  intervals  the  deep  silence  of  the  night.  The 
chilly  rain  was  falling,  and  the  darkness  was  profound. 
Yet  the  thought  of  abandoning  the  helpless  boy  to 
destruction,  was  agony  to  the  hearts  of  his  relatives. 
In  this  extremity  the  self-devotion  of  a  young  girl  inter 
posed  to  save  him.  Mary  Anna,  the  eldest  daughter  of 
Mrs.  Gibbes — then  only  thirteen  years  of  age,  determin 
ed  to  venture  back — in  spite  of  the  fearful  peril — alone. 
The  mother  dared  not  oppose  her  noble  resolution, 
which  seemed  indeed  an  inspiration  of  heaven  ;  and 
she  was  permitted  to  go.  Hastening  along  the  path 
with  all  the  speed  of  which  she  was  capable,  she  reached 
the  house,  still  in  the  undisturbed  possession  of  the 
enemy ;  and  entreated  permission  from  the  sentinel  to 
enter ;  persisting,  in  spite  of  refusal,  till  by  earnest 
10 


218  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

importunity  of  supplication,  she  gained  her  object. 
Searching  anxiously  through  the  house,  she  found  the 
child  in  a  room  in  a  third  story,  and  lifting  him  joyfully 
in  her  arms,  carried  him  down,  and  fled  with  him  to 
the  spot  where  her  anxious  parents  were  awaiting  her 
return.  The  shot  still  flew  thickly  around  her,  frequently 
throwing  up  the  earth  in  her  way  ;  but  protected  by  the 
Providence  that  watches  over  innocence,  she  joined  the 
rest  of  the  family  in  safety.*  The  boy  saved  on  this 
occasion  by  the  intrepidity  of  the  young  girl,  was  the 
late  General  Fenwick,  distinguished  for  his  services  in 
the  last  war  with  Great  Britain.  "  Fenwick  Place,"  still 
called  "  Headquarters,"  was  three  miles  from  "  Peaceful 
Retreat." 

*  Major  Garden,  who  after  the  war  married  Mary  Anna  Gibbes, 
nentions  this  intrepid  action.  There  are  a  few  errors  in  his  account  ; 
he  calls  the  boy  who  was  left,  "  a  distant  relation,''  and  says  the 
dwelling-house  was  fired  on  by  the  Americans.  The  accomplished 
lady  who  communicated  the  particulars  to  me,  heard  them  from  her 
grandmother,  Mrs.  Gibbes ;  and  the  fact  that  the  house  was  not  fired 
upon,  is  attested  by  a  near  relative  now  living.  The  house  never 
bore  any  marks  of  shot;  though  balls  and  grape-shot  have  been  often 
found  on  the  plantation.  Again — Garden  says  the  family  "were 
allowed  to  remain  in  some  of  the  upper  apartments;"  and  were  at 
last  "ordered  to  quit  the  premises,"  implying  that  they  were  treated 
with  some  severity  as  prisoners.  This  could  not  have  been  the  case  ; 
as  Mrs.  Gibbes  constantly  asserted  that  she  presided  at  her  own  table, 
and  spoke  of  the  respect  and  deference  with  which  she  was  uniformly 
treated  by  the  officers.  Her  refusal  to  yield  what  she  deemed  a  right, 
ensured  civility  towards  herself  and  household. 

The  family  Bible,  from  which  the  parentage  of  General  Fenwick 
might  have  been  ascertained,  was  lost  during  the  Revolution,  and  only 
restored  to  the  family  in  the  summer  of  1847. 


SARAH    REEVE    GIBBES.  219 

Some  time  after  these  occurrences,  when  the  family 
were  again  inmates  of  their  own  home,  a  battle  was 
fought  in  a  neighboring  field.  When  the  conflict  was 
over,  Mrs.  Gibbes  sent  her  servants  to  search  among 
the  slain  left  upon  the  battle-ground,  for  Robert  Barn- 
well,  her  nephew,  who  had  not  returned.  They  dis 
covered  him  by  part  of  his  dress,  which  one  of  the 
blacks  remembered  having  seen  his  mother  making. 
His  face  was  so  covered  with  wounds,  dust  and  blood, 
that  he  could  not  be  recognised.  Yet  life  was  not 
extinct;  and  under  the  unremitting  care  of  his  aunt  and 
her  young  daughter,  he  recovered.  His  son,  Robert  W. 
Barnwell,  was  for  some  years  president  of  the  South 
Carolina  College.  Scenes  like  these  were  often  witness 
ed  by  the  subject  of  this  sketch,  and  on  more  than  a 
few  occasions  did  she  suffer  acute  anxiety  on  account 
of  the  danger  of  those  dear  to  her.  She  was  accustom 
ed  to  point  out  the  spot  where  her  eldest  son,  when  only 
sixteen  years  old,  had  been  placed  as  a  sentinel,  while 
British  vessels  were  in  the  river,  and  their  fire  was 
poured  on  him.  She  would  relate  how,  with  a  mother's 
agony  of  solicitude,  she  watched  the  balls  as  they  struck 
the  earth  around  him,  while  the  youthful  soldier  main 
tained  his  dangerous  post,  notwithstanding  the  entrea 
ties  of  an  old  negro  hid  behind  a  tree,  that  he  would 
leave  it.  Through  such  trials,  the  severity  of  which  we 
who  enjoy  the  peace  so  purchased  cannot  fully  estimate, 
she  exhibited  the  same  composure,  and  readiness  to  meet 
every  emergency,  with  the  same  benevolent  sympathy 
for  others.  During  the  struggle,  while  Carolina  was 


220  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

invaded  or  in  a  state  of  defence,  her  house  was  at  differ 
ent  times  the  quarters  of  friend  and  foe.  The  skirmishes 
were  frequent,  and  many  who  went  forth  in  the  morn 
ing  in  health  and  vigor,  returned  no  more  ;  nor  did  she 
know  from  day  to  day  who  were  next  to  be  her  guests. 

Mrs.  Gibbes  had  a  cultivated  taste ;  and  amidst  her 
many  cares,  still  found  leisure  for  literary  occupation. 
Volumes  of  her  writings  remain,  filled  with  well-selected 
extracts  from  the  many  books  she  read,  accompanied 
by  her  own  comments;  with  essays  on  various  subjects, 
copies  of  letters  to  her  friends,  and  poetry.  Everything 
from  her  pen  evinces  delicacy  as  well  as  strength  of 
rnind,  extensive  information,  and  refinement  of  taste, 
with  the  tenderest  sensibility,  and  a  deep  tone  of  piety. 
Most  of  her  letters  were  written  after  the  war,  and 
throw  no  additional  light  on  the  feeling  or  manners  of 
that  period. 

She  was  in  the  habit  of  putting  aside  locks  of  hair 
enclosed  with  appropriate  poetical  tributes,  as  memen 
toes  of  her  departed  friends ;  and  many  of  these  touch 
ing  memorials  have  been  found  among  her  papers.  For 
fifteen  years  she  was  deprived  of  sight,  but  lost  nothing 
of  her  cheerfulness,  or  the  engaging  grace  of  her  manner ; 
nor  was  her  conversation  less  interesting  or  entertain 
ing  to  her  visitors.  A  stranger,  who  shortly  before  her 
death  was  at  her  house  with  a  party  of  friends,  whom 
she  delighted  by  her  conversation — expressed  great 
surprise  on  being  informed  she  was  blind. 

During  the  latter  part  of  her  life,  she  resided  at  Wilton, 
the  country-seat  of  Mrs.  Barnard  Elliott,  where  she  died 


SARAH  REEVE  GIBBES.  221 

in  1825,  at  the  age  of  seventy-nine.  Her  remains  rest 
in  the  family  burial-ground  upon  John's  Island.  A 
beautiful  monumental  inscription  in  St.  Paul's  church, 
Charleston,  records  the  virtues  that  adorned  her  charac 
ter,  and  the  faith  which  sustained  her  under  many 
afflictions. 


XVII. 


ELIZA   WILKINSON. 

THE  letters  of  Eliza  Wilkinson  present  a  lively  pic 
ture  of  the  situation  of  many  inhabitants  of  that  por 
tion  of  country  which  was  the  scene  of  various  skir 
mishes  about  the  time  of  Lincoln's  approach  to  relieve 
Charleston  from  Prevost,  the  retreat  of  that  comman 
der,  and  the  engagement  at  Stono  Ferry.  The  de 
scription  given  of  occurrences,  is  not  only  interesting 
as  a  graphic  detail,  but  as  exhibiting  traits  of  female 
character  worthy  of  all  admiration.  It  is  much  to 
be  regretted  that  her  records  do  not  embrace  a  longer 
period  of  time. 

Her  father  was  an  emigrant  from  Wales,  and  always 
had  much  pride  in  his  Welsh  name,  Francis  Yonge. 
He  had  three  children,  Eliza  and  two  sons  ;  and  owned 
what  is  called  Yonge's  Island.  He  was  old  and  infirm, 
and  suffered  much  rough  treatment  at  the  hands  of  the 
British,  from  whom  he  refused  to  take  a  protection. 
Both  his  sons  died — one  the  death  of  a  soldier ;  and  the 
old  family  name  now  lives  in  Charleston  in  the  person 


ELIZA    WILKINSON.  223 

of  Francis  Yonge  Porcher,  great  grandchild  of  the  sub 
ject  of  this  notice. 

Mrs.  Wilkinson  had  been  married  only  six  months 
when  her  first  husband  died.  At  the  period  of  the  war, 
she  was  a  young  and  beautiful  widow,  with  fascinating 
manners,  quick  at  repartee,  and  full  of  cheerfulness  and 
good  humor.  Her  place  of  residence,  Yonge's  Island, 
lies  thirty  miles  south  of  Charleston.  The  Cherokee 
rose  which  still  flourishes  there  in  great  abundance, 
hedging  the  long  avenue,  and  the  sight  of  the  creek  and 
causeway  that  separate  the  island  from  the  mainland, 
call  up  many  recollections  of  her.  She  bore  her  part 
in  Revolutionary  trials  and  privations,  and  was  fre 
quently  a  sufferer  from  British  cruelty. 

Mrs.  Wilkinson  was  in  Charleston  when  news  came 
that  a  large  party  of  the  enemy  had  landed  near  Beau 
fort.  With  a  few  friends,  she  went  over  to  her  father's 
plantation,  but  did  not  remain  there  long ;  for  upon  re 
ceiving  information  that  a  body  of  British  horse  were 
within  five  or  six  miles,  the  whole  party,  with  the  ex 
ception  of  her  father  and  mother,  crossed  the  river  to 
Wadmalaw,  and  went  for  refuge  to  the  house  of  her 
sister.  A  large  boat-load  of  women  and  children  hur 
rying  for  safety  to  Charleston,  stayed  with  them  a  day 
or  two,  and  presented  a  sad  spectacle  of  the  miseries 
brought  in  the  train  of  war.  One  woman  with  seven 
children,  the  youngest  but  two  weeks  old,  preferred 
venturing  her  own  life  and  that  of  her  tender  infant,  to 
captivity  in  the  hands  of  a  merciless  foe. 


224  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

Mrs.  Wilkinson  remained  at  Wadmalaw  for  some 
time,  and  at  length  returned  to  her  home  on  the  island. 
The  surrounding  country  was  waiting  in  a  distressed 
condition  for  the  coming  of  General  Lincoln,  to  whom 
the  people  looked  for  deliverance.  Many  painful  days 
of  suspense  passed  before  tidings  were  received.  All 
trifling  discourse,  she  says,  was  laid  aside — the  ladies 
who  gathered  in  knots  talking  only  of  political  affairs. 
At  last  her  brothers,  with  the  Willtown  troops,  arrived 
from  Charleston,  and  brought  the  joyful  news  of  the 
approach  of  Lincoln.  The  dreaded  enemy  had  not  yet 
invaded  the  retirement  of  Yonge's  Island ;  although  it 
was  suspected  that  spies  were  lurking  about,  and  boat 
loads  of  red  coats  were  frequently  seen  passing  and 
re-passing  on  the  river.  Mrs.  Wilkinson  retreated  with 
her  sister  to  an  inland  country-seat.  There  they  were 
called  on  by  parties  of  the  Americans,  whom  they 
always  received  with  friendly  hospitality.  "  The  poor 
est  soldier,"  says  one  letter,  "who  would  call  at  any 
time  for  a  drink  of  water,  I  would  take  a  pleasure  in 
giving  it  to  him  myself;  and  many  a  dirty,  ragged  fel 
low  have  I  attended  with  a  bowl  of  water,  or  milk  and 
water :  they  really  merit  every  thing,  who  will  fight 
from  principle  alone  ;  for  from  what  I  could  learn,  these 
poor  creatures  had  nothing  to  protect,  and  seldom  got 
their  pay ;  yet  with  what  alacrity  will  they  encounter 
danger  and  hardships  of  every  kind !" 

One  night  a  detachment  of  sixty  red  coats  passed  the 
gate  with  the  intention  of  surprising  Lieutenant  Mor 
ton  Wilkinson  at  a  neighboring  plantation.  A  negro 


ELIZA    WILKINSON.  225 

woman  was  their  informer  and  guide ;  but  their  attempt 
was  unsuccessful.  On  re-passing  the  avenue  early  the 
next  morning,  they  made  a  halt  at  the  head  of  it,  but  a 
negro  man  dissuaded  them  from  entering,  by  telling 
them  the  place  belonged  to  a  decrepit  old  gentleman, 
who  did  not  then  live  there.  They  took  his  word  for  it, 
and  passed  on. 

On  the  second  of  June,  two  men  belonging  to  the 
enemy,  rode  up  to  the  house,  and  asked  many  questions, 
saying  that  Colonel  M'Girth  and  his  soldiers  might  be 
presently  looked  for,  and  that  the  inmates  could  expect 
no  mercy.  The  family  remained  in  a  state  of  cruel 
suspense  for  many  hours.  The  following  morning  a 
party  of  the  whigs  called  at  the  gate,  but  did  not  alight. 
One  of  them,  in  leaping  a  ditch,  was  hurt,  and  taken 
into  the  house  for  assistance ;  and  while  they  were 
dressing  his  wound,  a  negro  girl  gave  the  alarm  that  the 
"  king's  people"  were  coming.  The  two  men  mounted 
their  horses  and  escaped  :  the  women  awaited  the  ene 
my's  approach.  Mrs.  Wilkinson  writes  to  a  friend  : 

"I  heard  the  horses  of  the  inhuman  Britons  coming 
in  such  a  furious  manner,  that  they  seemed  to  tear  up 
the  earth,  the  riders  at  the  same  time  bellowing  out  the 
most  horrid  curses  imaginable — oaths  and  imprecations 
which  chilled  my  whole  frame.  Surely,  thought  I,  such 
horrid  language  denotes  nothing  less  than  death  ;  but  I 
had  no  time  for  thought — they  were  up  to  the  house — • 
entered  with  drawn  swords  and  pistols  in  their  hands  : 
indeed  they  rushed  in  in  the  most  furious  manner,  cry 
ing  out,  '  Where  are  these  women  rebels  ?'  That  was 
10* 


226  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

the  first  salutation!  The  moment  they  espied  us,  off 
went  our  caps.  (I  always  heard  say  none  but  women 
pulled  caps!)  And  for  what,  think  you?  Why,  only 
to  get  a  paltry  stone  and  wax  pin,  which  kept  them  on 
our  heads  ;  at  the  same  time  uttering  the  most  abusive 
language  imaginable,  and  making  as  if  they  would  hew 
us  to  pieces  with  their  swords.  But  it  is  not  in  my 
power  to  describe  the  scene  :  it  was  terrible  to  the  last 
degree ;  and  what  augmented  it,  they  had  several  armed 
negroes  with  them,  who  threatened  and  abused  us 
greatly.  They  then  began  to  plunder  the  house  of 
every  thing  they  thought  valuable  or  worth  taking ;  our 
trunks  were  split  to  pieces,  and  each  mean,  pitiful 
wretch  crammed  his  bosom  with  the  contents,  which 
were  our  apparel,  &c.* 

"  I  ventured  to  speak  to  the  inhuman  monster  who 
had  my  clothes.  I  represented  to  him  the  times  were 
such  we  could  not  replace  what  they  had  taken  from 
us,  and  begged  him  to  spare  me  only  a  suit  or  two  :  but 
I  got  nothing  but  a  hearty  curse  for  my  pains  ;  nay,  so 
far  was  his  callous  heart  from  relenting,  that  casting  his 
eyes  towards  my  shoes,  '  I  want  them  buckles/  said  he  ; 
and  immediately  knelt  at  my  feet  to  take  them  out. 
While  he  was  busy  doing  this,  a  brother  villain,  whose 
enormous  mouth  extended  from  ear  to  ear,  bawled  out, 
'  Shares  there,  I  say !  shares !'  So  they  divided  my 
buckles  between  them.  The  other  wretches  were  em 
ployed  in  the  same  manner ;  they  took  my  sister's  ear- 

*  Letters  of  Eliza  Wilkinson,  arranged  by  Mrs.  Oilman. 


ELIZA    WILKINSON.  227 

rings  from  her  ears,  her  and  Miss  Samuells'  buckles ; 
they  demanded  her  ring  from  her  finger ;  she  pleaded 
for  it,  told  them  it  was  her  wedding-ring,  and  begged 
they  would  let  her  keep  it ;  but  they  still  demanded  it ; 
and  presenting  a  pistol  at  her,  swore  if  she  did  not  de 
liver  it  immediately,  they  would  fire.  She  gave  it  to 
them  ;  and  after  bundling  up  all  their  booty,  they  mount 
ed  their  horses.  But  such  despicable  figures  !  Each 
wretch's  bosom  stuffed  so  full,  they  appeared  to  be  all 
afflicted  with  some  dropsical  disorder.  Had  a  party  of 
rebels  (as  they  call  us)  appeared,  we  should  have  seen 
their  circumference  lessen. 

"  They  took  care  to  tell  us,  when  they  were  goin'g 
away,  that  they  had  favored  us  a  great  deal — that  we 
might  thank  our  stars  it  was  no  worse.  I  had  forgot  to 
tell  you  that  upon  their  first  entering  the  house,  one  of. 
them  gave  my  arm  such  a  violent  grasp,  that  he  left  the 
print  of  his  thumb  and  three  fingers  in  black  and  blue, 
which  was  to  be  seen  very  plainly  for  several  days  afte  r- 
wards.  I  showed  it  to  one  of  our  officers  who  dined 
with  us,  as  a  specimen  of  British  cruelty.  After  they 
were  gone,  I  began  to  be  sensible  of  the  danger  I  had 
been  in,  and  the  thoughts  of  the  vile  men  seemed  worse 
(if  possible)  than  their  presence ;  for  they  came  so  sud 
denly  up  to  the  house,  that  I  had  no  time  for  thought ; 
and  while  they  stayed,  I  seemed  in  amaze — quite  stupid ! 
I  cannot  describe  it.  But  when  they  were  gone,  and  I 
had  time  to  consider,  I  trembled  so  with  terror  that  I 
could  not  support  myself.  I  went  into  the  room,  threw 


228  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

myself  on  the  bed,  and  gave  way  to  a  violent  burst  of 
grief,  which  seemed  to  be  some  relief  to  my  swollen 
heart." 

This  outrage  was  followed  by  a  visit  from  M 'Girth's 
men,  who  treated  the  ladies  with  more  civility ;  one  of 
them  promising  to  make  a  report  at  camp  of  the  usage 
they  had  received.  It  was  little  consolation,  however, 
to  know  that  the  robbers  would  probably  be  punished. 
The  others,  who  professed  so  much  feeling  for  the  fair, 
were  not  content  without  their  share  of  plunder, 
though  more  polite  in  the  manner  of  taking  it.  "  While 
the  British  soldiers  were  talking  to  us,  some  of  the 
silent  ones  withdrew,  and  presently  laid  siege  to  a  bee 
hive,  which  they  soon  brought  to  terms.  The  others 
perceiving  it,  cried  out,  'Hand  the  ladies  a  plate  of 
honey.'  This  was  immediately  done  with  officious 
haste,  no  doubt  thinking  they  were  very  generous  in 
treating  us  with  our  own.  There  were  a  few  horses 
feeding  in  the  pasture.  They  had  them  driven  up. 
'  Ladies,  do  either  of  you  own  these  horses  ?'  '  No  ; 
they  partly  belong  to  father  and  Mr.  Smilie  !'  '  Well, 
ladies,  as  they  are  not  your  property,  we  will  take 
them!'" 

They  asked  the  distance  to  the  other  settlements  ; 
and  the  females  begged  that  forbearance  might  be  shown 
to  the  aged  father.  He  was  visited  the  same  day  by 
another  body  of  troops,  who  abused  him  and  plundered 
the  house.  "  One  came  to  search  mother's  pockets, 
too,  but  she  resolutely  threw  his  hand  aside.  '  If  you 
must  see  what's  in  my  pocket,  I'll  show  you  myself;' 


ELIZA    WILKINSON.  229 

and  she  took  out  a  thread-case,  which  had  thread, 
needles,  pins,  tape,  &c.  The  mean  wretch  took  it  from 
her."  *  *  "  After  drinking  all  the  wine,  rum,  &c. 
they  could  find,  and  inviting  the  negroes  they  had  with 
them,  who  were  very  insolent,  to  do  the  same — they 
went  to  their  horses,  and  would  shake  hands  with  father 
and  mother  before  their  departure.  Fine  amends,  to  be 
sure!" 

After  such  unwelcome  visitors,  it  is  not  surprising 
that  the  unprotected  women  could  not  eat  or  sleep  in 
peace.  They  lay  in  their  clothes  every  night,  alarmed 
by  the  least  noise ;  while  the  days  were  spent  in  anxiety 
and  melancholy.  One  morning,  when  Mrs.  Wilkinson 
was  coming  out  of  her  chamber,  her  eyes  fixed  on  the 
window — for  she  was  continually  on  the  watch — she 
saw  something  glitter  through  a  thin  part  of  the  wood 
bordering  the  road.  It  proved  to  be  the  weapons  of  a 
large  body  of  soldiers.  As  they  came  from  the  direc 
tion  of  the  enemy's  encampment,  she  concluded  they 
were  British  troops  ;  and  every  one  in  the  house  took 
the  alarm.  "  Never  was  there  such  a  scene  of  con 
fusion.  Sighs,  complaints,  wringing  of  hands — one 
running  here,  another  there,  spreading  the  dreadful 
tidings ;  and  in  a  little  time  the  negroes  in  the  field 
came  running  up  to  the  house  with  a  hundred  stories. 
Table,  tea-cups — all  the  breakfast  apparatus,  were  im 
mediately  huddled  together  and  borne  ofT;  and  we 
watched  sharply  to  see  which  way  the  enemy  (as  we 
supposed  them)  took.  But,  oh !  horrible !  in  a  minute 
or  two  we  saw  our  avenue  crowded  with  horsemen  in 


230  WOMEN    OP    THE    REVOLUTION. 

uniform.  Said  I,  '  that  looks  like  our  uniform — blue 
and  red  ;;  but  I  immediately  recollected  to  have  heard 
that  the  Hessian  uniform  was  much  like  ours  ;  so  out 
of  the  house  we  went,  into  an  out-house."  Their  ex 
cessive  fright  prevented  the  explanation  attempted  from 
being  understood.  While  the  officer  was  endeavoring 
to  re-assure  the  terrified  ladies,  a  negro  woman  came 
up,  and  tapping  Mrs.  Wilkinson  on  the  shoulder,  whis 
pered,  '  I  don't  like  these  men  ;  one  of  them  gave  me 
this  piece  of  silver  for  some  milk  ;  and  I  know  our 
people  don't  have  so  much  silver  these  times.' ' 

Their  dismay  and  terror  were  groundless  ;  for  the 
horsemen  were  a  party  of  Americans,  under  the  com 
mand  of  Major  Moore.  The  one  taken  for  a  Hessian 
was  a  French  officer.  The  mistake  had  been  mutual ; 
the  distress  shown  at  sight  of  them  having  caused  the 
officer  in  command  to  conclude  himself  and  his  men 
unwelcome  visitors  to  some  tory  family.  The  discoverv 
that  they  were  friends  changed  fear  into  delight.  "  They 
then  laughed  at  me,"  says  Mrs.  Wilkinson,  "  heartily 
for  my  fright — saying  that  they  really  expected,  by  the 
time  I  had  done  wringing  my  hands,  I  would  have  no 
skin  left  upon  them ;  but  now  they  knew  the  reason 
they  no  longer  wondered." 

Word  was  presently  brought  that  a  number  of  the 
enemy  were  carrying  provisions  from  a  plantation  about 
two  miles  distant.  The  whigs  marched  to  the  place, 
and  returned  with  seven  prisoners.  Two  of  these 
were  of  M'Girth's  party,  who  had  treated  the  ladies  so 
cruelly ;  yet  notwithstanding  the  injuries  received,  the 


ELIZA    WILKINSON.  231 

kind  heart  of  Mrs.  Wilkinson  relented  at  the  sight  of 
them.  She  expressed  pity  for  their  distress,  calling  them 
friends,  because  they  were  in  the  power  of  her  country 
men  ;  and  interceded  for  them  with  the  captors.  Enqui 
ring  if  they  would  like  any  thing  to  drink,  she  supplied 
them  with  the  water  they  craved,  holding  the  glass  to 
their  lips,  as  their  hands  were  tied  behind  them.  Several 
of  the  American  officers,  who  had  gathered  at  the  door 
and  window,  were  smiling  at  the  unusual  scene.  "In 
the  meanwhile,"  she  writes ,  "  Miss  Samuells  was  very 
busy  about  a  wounded  officer,  (one  of  M'Girth's,)  who 
had  been  brought  to  the  house.  He  had  a  ball  through 
his  arm ;  we  could  find  no  rag  to  dress  his  wounds, 
every  thing  in  the  house  being  thrown  into  such  con 
fusion  by  the  plunderers ;  but  (see  the  native  tenderness 
of  an  American!)  Miss  Samuells  took  from  her  neck 
the  only  remaining  handkerchief  the  Britons  had  left 
her,  and  with  it  bound  up  his  arm." 

Their  friends  having  left  them,  Mr.  Yonge  sent  for 
his  daughter  to  his  own  plantation.  The  ladies  were 
obliged  to  walk  three  miles,  the  horses  having  been 
taken  away ;  but  umbrellas  were  sent  for  them,  and 
they  were  attended  by  two  of  Mr.  Yonge's  negro  men 
armed  with  clubs.  While  crossing  a  place  called  the 
Sands,  the  blacks  captured  and  wounded  a  negro  be 
longing  to  the  loyalists,  who  came  out  of  the  woods. 
Mrs.  Wilkinson  interfered  to  save  his  life ;  and  to  insure 
the  safety  of  the  poor  creature,  who  claimed  her  pro 
tection;  and  who  was  dragged  on  rapidly  by  his  captors 
— they  fearing  pursuit — was  obliged  to  walk  very  fast, 


'232  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

leaving  the  others  behind,  till  she  was  ready  to  faint 
from  fatigue  and  the  overpowering  heat.  They  arrived 
safe  at  her  father's,  whence  they  were  driven  ere  long 
by  another  alarm.  This  time  their  flight  was  in  dark 
ness,  through  bogs  and  woods,  stumbling  against  the 
stumps  or  each  other.  In  their  new  abode  they  had 
more  security.  Parties  of  friends  were  out  continually, 
keeping  the  enemy  quiet ;  and  sometimes  in  the  night 
soldiers  would  ride  up,  and  bid  the  negroes  tell  the 
ladies  they  might  sleep  soundly,  for  they  were  to  main 
tain  a  patrol  during  the  night. 

At  length  the  arrival  of  General  Lincoln  was  an 
nounced  ;  and  he  was  joyfully  welcomed  by  the  inmates 
of  the  house.  That  night  two  or  three  hundred  men 
were  quartered  on  the  plantation — some  of  the  officers 
sleeping  in  the  hall.  They  refused  to  have  beds  made. 
"  Beds  were  not  for  soldiers ;  the  floor  or  the  earth 
served  them  as  well  as  any  where  else."  At  daybreak 
they  moved  to  camp.  Another  alarm  occurred,  and  Gen 
eral  Lincoln's  defeat  near  Stono  Ferry,  caused  the  re 
treat  of  the  family  to  Willtown.  Our  writer's  pen  had 
thence  to  record  only  new  aggressions  and  suffer 
ings. 

The  siege  and  capitulation  of  Charleston  brought  the 
evils  under  which  the  land  had  groaned,  to  their  height. 
The  hardships  endured  by  those  within  the  beleagured 
city — the  gloomy  resignation  of  hope — the  submission 
to  inevitable  misfortune,  have  been  described  by  abler 
chroniclers.  The  general  feeling  is  expressed  in  a  letter 


ELIZA    WILKINSON.  233 

from  a  soldier  to  his  wife,  written  twelve  days  before 
the  event : 

"  Our  affairs  are  daily  declining ;  and  not  a  ray  of 
hope  remains  to  assure  us  of  our  success.  *  *  I 
expect  to  have  the  liberty  of  soon  returning  to 
you ;  but  the  army  must  be  made  prisoners  of  war. 
This  will  give  a  rude  shock  to  the  independence  of 
America ;  and  a  Lincolnade  will  be  as  common  a  term 
as  aBurgoynade.  *  *  A  mortifying  scene  must  be  en 
countered  ;  the  thirteen  stripes  will  be  levelled  in  the  dust ; 
and  I  owe  my  life  to  the  clemency  of  the  conqueror." 

After  the  surrender,  Mrs.  Wilkinson  visited  the  city, 
went  on  board  the  prison-ship,  and  drank  coffee  with  the 
prisoners  awaiting  an  exchange.  She  saw  the  depar 
ture  of  her  friends  who  were  driven  into  exile,  and  in 
dulged  herself  occasionally  in  provoking  her  enemies  by 
sarcastic  sallies.  "  Once,"  she  writes,  "  I  was  asked  by 
a  British  officer  to  play  the  guitar. 

"  '  I  cannot  play  ;  I  am  very  dull.' 

lt '  How  long  do  you  intend  to  continue  so,  Mrs. 
Wilkinson  ?' 

"  '  Until  my  countrymen  return,  sir !' 

"  '  Return  as  what,  madam  ? — prisoners  or  subjects  ?' 

"  '  As  conquerors,  sir.' 

"  He  affected  a  laugh.  '  You  will  never  see  that, 
madam !' 

"  '  I  live  in  hopes,  sir,  of  seeing  the  thirteen  stripes 
hoisted  once  more  on  the  bastions  of  this  garrison.' 

"  '  Do  not  hope  so  ;  but  come,  give  us  a  tune  on  the 
guitar.' 


234  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

"  '  I  can  play  nothing  but  rebel  songs/ 

"  '  Well,  let  us  have  one  of  them.' 

"  J  Not  to-day — I  cannot  play — I  will  not  play  ;  be 
sides,  I  suppose  I  should  be  put  into  the  Provost  for 
such  a  heinous  crime.' 

"  I  have  often  wondered  since,  I  was  not  packed  off, 
too ;  for  I  was  very  saucy,  and  never  disguised  my  sen 
timents. 

"  One  day,"  she  continues,  "  Kitty  and  I  were  going 
to  take  a  walk  on  the  Bay,  to  get  something  we  wanted. 
Just  as  we  had  got  our  hats  on,  up.  ran  one  of  the  Billets 
into  the  dining-room,  where  we  were. 

"  '  Your  servant,  ladies.' 

"  '  Your  servant,  sir.' 

"  '  Going  out,  ladies  ?' 

" '  Only  to  take  a  little  walk.' 

"  He  immediately  turned  about,  and  ran  down  stairs. 
I  guessed  for  what.  *  *  He  offered  me  his 

hand,  or  rather  arm,  to  lean  upon. 

"  *  Excuse  me,  sir/  said  I ;  '  I  will  support  myself,  if 
you  please/ 

"  '  No,  madam,  the  pavements  are  very  uneven  ;  you 
may  get  a  fall ;  do  accept  my  arm/ 

"  '  Pardon  me,  I  cannot/ 

"  '  Come,  you  do  not  know  what  your  condescension 
may  do.  I  will  turn  rebel!' 

"  '  Will  you  ?'  said  I,  laughingly — '  Turn  rebel  first, 
and  then  offer  your  arm/ 

"  We  stopped  in  another  store,  where  were  several 
British  officers.  After  asking  for  the  articles  I  wanted, 


ELIZA    WILKINSON.  235 

I  saw  a  broad  roll  of  ribbon,  which  appeared  to  be  of 
black  and  white  stripes. 

" '  Go/  said  I  to  the  officer  who  was  with  us,  '  and 
reckon  the  stripes  of  that  ribbon  j  see  if  they  are  thir 
teen  !'  (with  an  emphasis  I  spoke  the  word) — and  he 
went,  too! 

"  '  Yes,  they  are  thirteen,  upon  my  word,  madam.' 

"  '  Do  hand  it  me.'  He  did  so  ;  I  took  it,  and  found 
that  it  was  narrow  black  ribbon,  carefully  wound  round 
a  broad  white.  I  returned  it  to  its  place  on  the  shelf. 

"  '  Madam,'  said  the-  merchant,  '  you  can  buy  the  black 
and  white  too,  and  tack  them  in  stripes.' 

"  '  By  no  means,  sir  ;  I  would  not  have  them  slightly 
tacked,  \mifirmly  united.'  The  above-mentioned  officers 
sat  on  the  counter  kicking  their  heels.  How  they  gaped 
at  me  when  I  said  this!  But  the  merchant  laughed 
heartily." 

Like  many  others,  Mrs.  Wilkinson  refused  to  join  in 
the  amusements  of  the  city  while  in  possession  of  the 
British ;  but  gave  her  energies  to  the  relief  of  hei 
friends.  The  women  were  the  more  active-  when 
military  'efforts  were  suspended.  Many  and  ingenious 
were  the  contrivances  they  adopted,  to  carry  supplies 
from  the  British  garrison,  which  might  be  useful  to  the 
gallant  defenders  of  their  country.  Sometimes  cloth 
for  a  military  coat,  fashioned  into  an  appendage  to 
female  attire,  would  be  borne  away,  unsuspected  by  the 
vigilant  guards  whose  business  it  was  to  prevent  smug 
gling,  and  afterwards  converted  into  regimental  shape. 
Boots,  "  a  world  too  wide"  for  the  delicate  wearer,  were 


236  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

often  transferred  to  the  partisan  who  could  not  procure 
them  for  himself.  A  horseman's  helmet  has  been  con 
cealed  under  a  well-arranged  head-dress ;  and  epau 
lettes  delivered  from  the  folds  of  a  matron's  simple 
cap.  Other  articles  in  demand  for  military  use,  more 
easily  conveyed,  were  regularly  brought  away  by  some 
stratagem  or  other.  Feathers  and  cockades  thus  se 
cured,  and  presented  by  the  fair  ones  as  a  trophy,  had 
an  inestimable  value  in  the  eyes  of  those  who  received 
them  ;  and  useful  apparel  was  worn  with  the  greater 
satisfaction,  that  it  had  not  been  conveyed  without 
some  risk  on  the  donor's  part. 

It  was  after  the  return  of  Mrs.  Wilkinson  to  Yonge's 
Island,  that  news  was  received  of  the  glorious  victory 
of  Washington  over  Cornwallis.  Her  last  letter  which 
is  of  any  public  interest,  contains  congratulations  on 
this  event. 

The  old  family  mansion  has  been  removed  from  the 
island.  But  the  burial-ground  is  still  held  sacred  ;  and 
the  memory  of  Eliza  Wilkinson  is  cherished  in  the 
hearts  of  her  kindred. 


XVIII. 


MARTHA    BRATTON. 

"  THE  memory  of  Mrs.  Martha  Bratton. — In  the 
hands  of  an  infuriate.4  monster,  with  the  instrument 
of  death  around  her  neck,  she  nobly  refused  to  betray 
her  husband  ;  in  the  hour  of  victory  she  remembered 
mercy,  and  as  a  guardian  angel,  interposed  in  behalf  of 
her  inhuman  enemies.  Throughout  the  Revolution  she 
encouraged  the  whigs  to  fight  onto  the  last ;  to  hope  on  to 
the  end.  Honor  and  gratitude  to  the  woman  and 
heroine,  who  proved  herself  so  faithful  a  wife — so  firm  a 
friend  to  liberty !" 

The  above  toast  was  drunk  at  a  celebration  of 
Huck's  Defeat,  given  at  Brattonsville,  York  District, 
South  Carolina,  on  the  twelfth  of  July,  1839.  The 
ground  of  the  battle  that  had  taken  place  fifty-nine 
years  before,  was  within  a  few  hundred  yards  of  Dr 
Bratton's  residence,  inherited  from  his  father,  one  of 
the  heroes  of  that  day.  He  celebrated  the  anniversary 
of  this  triumph  of  the  whigs.  Tho  cool  spring  of  the 
battle-field,  it  is  said,  furnished  the  only  beverage  used 
on  the  occasion. 

The  victory  gained  at  this  spot  had  the  most  impor- 


238  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

tant  effect  on  the  destinies  of  the  State.  It  was  the  first 
check  given  to  the  British  troops — the  first  time  after 
the  fall  of  Charleston,  that  the  hitherto  victorious  enemy 
had  been  met.  It  brought  confidence  to  the  drooping 
spirits  of  the  patriots,  and  taught  the  invaders  that 
freemen  are  not  conquered  while  the  mind  is  free.  The 
whigs,  inspired  with  new  life  and  buoyant  hopes,  began 
to  throng  together  ;  the  British  were  again  attacked  and 
defeated ;  a  band  of  resolute  and  determined  spirits  took 
the  field,  and  kept  it  till  victory  perched  upon  their 
banners,  and  South  Carolina  became  an  independent 
State. 

The  year  1780  was  A  dark  period  for  the  patriots  of 
Carolina.  Charleston  surrendered  on  the  twelfth  of 
May;  and  General  Lincoln  and  the  American  army 
became  prisoners  of  war.  This  success  was  followed  up 
by  vigorous  movements.  One  expedition  secured  the 
important  post  of  Ninety-Six;  another  scoured  the 
country  bordering  on  the  Savannah;  and  Lord  Corn- 
wallis  passed  the  Santee  and  took  Georgetown.  Armed 
garrisons  were  posted  throughout  the  State,  which  lay 
at  the  mercy  of  the  conqueror,  to  overawe  the  inhabi 
tants,  and  secure  a  return  to  their  allegiance.  For 
several  weeks  all  military  opposition  ceased ;  and  it  wTas 
the  boast  of  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  that  here,  at  least,  the 
American  Revolution  was  ended.  A  proclamation  was 
issued,  denouncing  vengeance  on  all  who  should  dare 
appear  in  arms,  save  under  the  royal  authority,  and 
offering  pardon,  with  a  few  exceptions,  to  those  who 
would  acknowledge  it.  and  accept  British  protection. 


MARTHA    BRATTON.  239 

The  great  body  of  the  people,  believing  resistance 
unavailing  and  hopeless,  took  the  offered  protection, 
while  those  who  refused  absolute  submission  were 
exiled  or  imprisoned.  But  the  fact  is  recorded  that  the 
inhabitants  of  York  District  never  gave  their  paroles, 
nor  accepted  protection  as  British  subjects  ;  preferring 
resistance  and  exile  to  subjection  and  inglorious  peace.* 
A  few  individuals,  who  were  excepted  from  the  benefits 
of  the  proclamation,  with  others  in  whose  breasts  the 
love  of  liberty  was  unconquerable,  sought  refuge  in  North 
Carolina.  They  were  followed  by  the  whigs  of  York, 
Chester,  and  some  other  districts  bordering  on  that 
State,  who  fled  from  the  British  troops  as  they  marched 
into  the  upper  country  to  compel  the  entire  submission 
of  the  conquered  province.  These  patriot  exiles  soon 
organized  themselves  in  companies,  and  under  their 
gallant  leaders,  Sumter,  Bratton,  Wynn,  Moffit  and 
others,  began  to  collect  on  the  frontier,  and  to  harass 
the  victorious  enemy  by  sudden  and  desultory  attacks. 
At  the  time  when  this  noble  daring  was  displayed,  the 
State  wras  unable  to  feed  or  clothe  or  arm  the  soldiers. 
They  depended  on  their  own  exertions  for  every  thing 
necessary  to  carry  on  the  warfare.  They  tabernacled 
in  the  woods  and  swamps,  with  wolves  and  other  beasts 

*  This  fact  is  dwelt,  upon  in  the  oration  delivered  on  the  occasion  by 
Colonel  Beatty.  Dr.  Joseph  Johnson  of  Charleston,  to  whom  I  am 
indebted  for  some  of  the  particulars  in  Mrs.  Bratton's  history,  thinks  it 
due  to  the  circumstance  that  a  large  proportion  of  the  settlers  in  that 
part  of  the  State  were  of  Irish  origin,  and  derived  their  distrust  of 
British  faith  from  traditions  of  violated  riiihts,  contrary  to  the  stipula 
tions  of  the  treaty  of  Limerick. 


240  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

of  the  forest;  and  frequently  wanted  both  for  food  and 
clothing. 

To  crush  this  bold  and  determined  spirit,  British 
officers  and  troops  were  despatched,  in  marauding 
parties,  to  every  nook  and  corner  of  South  Carolina, 
authorised  to  punish  every  whig  with  the  utmost  rigor, 
and  to  call  upon  the  loyalists  to  aid  in  the  work  of 
carnage.  A  body  of  these  marauders,  assembled  at 
Mobley's  Meeting-house  in  Fairfield  District,  were 
attacked  and  defeated  in  June  by  a  party  of  whigs 
under  the  command  of  Colonel  Bratton,  Major  Wynn, 
and  Captain  M'Clure.  The  report  of  this  disaster  being 
conveyed  to  Rocky  Mount  in  Chester  District,  Colonel 
Turnbull,  the  commander  of  a  strong  detachment  of 
British  troops  at  that  point,  determined  on  summary 
vengeance,  and  for  that  purpose  sent  Captain  Huck,  at 
the  head  of  four  hundred  cavalry,  and  a  considerable 
body  of  tories,  all  well  mounted,  with  the  following 
order  : 

"  To  CAPTAIN  HUYCK — 

"  You  are  hereby  ordered,  with  the  cavalry  under 
your  command,  to  proceed  to  the  frontier  of  the  pro 
vince,  collecting  all  the  royal  militia  with  you  on  your 
march,  and  with  said  force  to  push  the  rebels  as  far  as 
you  may  deem  convenient."* 

It  was  at  this  time  that  the  heroism  of  the  wife  of 
Colonel  Bratton  was  so  nobly  displayed.  The  evening 

*  The  order  was  found  in  Huck's  pocket  after  death,  and  is  still 
preserved  by  one  of  his  conquerors.  His  name  is  spelt  as  above  in 
the  manuscript. 


MARTHA    BRATTON.  241 

preceding  the  battle,  Huck  arrived  at  Colonel  Bratton's 
house.  He  entered  rudely,  and  demanded  where  her 
husband  was. 

"  He  is  in  Sumter's  army,"  was  the  undaunted  reply. 

The  officer  then  essayed  persuasion,  and  proposed  to 
Mrs.  Bratton  to  induce  her  husband  to  come  in  and 
join  the  royalists,  promising  that  he  should  have  a  com 
mission  in  the  royal  service.  It  may  well  be  believed 
that  arguments  were  used,  which  must  have  had  a 
show  of  reason  at  the  time,  when  the  people  gene 
rally  had  given  up  all  hopes  and  notions  of  independ 
ence.  But  Mrs.  Bratton  answered  with  heroic  firm 
ness,  that  she  would  rather  see  him  remain  true  to 
his  duty  to  his  country,  even  if  he  perished  in  Sumter's 
army. 

The  son  of  Mrs.  Bratton,  Dr.  John  S.  Bratton,  who 
was  then  a  child,  remembers  that  Huck  was  caressing 
him  on  his  knee  while  speaking  to  his  mother.  On 
receiving  her  answer,  he  pushed  the  boy  oft'  so  sud 
denly,  that  his  face  was  bruised  by  the  fall.  At  the 
same  time,  one  of  Huck's  soldiers,  infuriated  at  her 
boldness,  and  animated  by  the  spirit  of  deadly  animosity 
towards  the  whigs  which  then  raged  in  its  greatest 
violence,  seized  a  reaping-hook  that  hung  near  them 
in  the  piazza,  and  brought  it  to  her  throat,  with  inten 
tion  to  kill  her.  Still  she  refused  to  give  information 
that  might  endanger  her  husband's  safety.  There  is  no 
mention  made  of  any  interference  on  the  part  of  Cap 
tain  Huck  to  save  her  from  the  hands  of  his  murderous 
ruffian.  But  the  officer  second  in  command  interposed, 
11 


242  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

and  compelled  the  soldier  to  release  her.  They  took 
prisoners  three  old  men,  whom,  with  another  they  had 
captured  during  the  day,  they  confined  in  a  corn- 
crib. 

Huck  then  ordered  Mrs.  Bratton  to  have  supper  pre 
pared  for  him  and  his  troopers.  It  may  be  conceived 
with  what  feelings  she  saw  her  house  occupied  by  the 
enemies  of  her  husband  and  her  country,  and  found 
herself  compelled  to  minister  to  their  wants.  What 
wild  and  gloomy  thoughts  had  possession  of  her  soul,  is 
evident  from  the  desperate  idea  that  occurred  to  her  of 
playing  a  Roman's  part,  and  mingling  poison,  which 
she  had  in  the  house,  with  the  food  they  were  to  eat ; 
thus  delivering  her  neighbors  from  the  impending  dan 
ger.  But  her  noble  nature  shrank  from  such  an  ex 
pedient,  even  to  punish  the  invaders  of  her  home.  She 
well  knew,  too,  the  brave  spirit  that  animated  her  hus 
band  and  his  comrades.  They  might  even  now  be 
dogging  the  footsteps  of  the  enemy ;  they  might  be 
watching  the  opportunity  for  an  attack.  They  might 
come  to  the  house  also.  She  would  not  have  them  owe 
to  a  cowardly  stratagem  the  victory  they  should  win  in 
the  field  of  battle.  Having  prepared  the  repast,  she  re 
tired  with  her  children  to  an  upper  apartment. 

After  they  had  supped,  Huck  and  his  officers  went  to 
another  house  about  half  a  mile  off,  owned  by  James 
Williamson,  to  pass  the  night.  His  troops  lay  encamped 
around  it.  A  fenced  road  passed  the  door,  and  sen 
tinels  were  posted  along  the  road.  The  soldiers  slept 
in  fancied  security,  and  the  guard  kept  negligent  watch; 


MARTHA    BRATTON.  243 

they  dreamed  not  of  the  scene  that  awaited  them ; 
they  knew  not  that  defeat  and  death  were  impending. 
Colonel  Bratton,  with  a  party  chiefly  composed  of  his 
neighbors,  had  that  day  left  Mecklenburg  County, 
North  Carolina,  under  the  conviction  that  the  royalists 
would  shortly  send  forces  into  the  neighborhood  of 
their  homes,  to  revenge  the  defeat  of  the  tories  at 
Mobley's  Meeting-House.  With  a  force  of  only 
seventy-five  men — for  about  fifty  had  dropped  off  on 
the  way — Colonel  Bratton  and  Captain  McClure,  hav 
ing  received  intelligence  of  the  position  and  numbers 
of  the  enemy,  marched  to  within  a  short  distance  of 
their  encampment.  The  whigs  arrived  at  night,  and 
after  concealing  their  horses  in  a  swamp,  Bratton  him 
self  reconnoitered  the  encampment,  advancing  within 
the  line  of  sentinels.  The  party  of  Americans  divided 
to  enclose  the  enemy ;  one-half  coming  up  the  lane, 
the  other  being  sent  round  to  take  the  opposite  direc 
tion.  Huck  and  his  officers  were  still  sleeping  when 
the  attack  commenced,  and  were  aroused  by  the  roar 
of  the  American  guns.  Huck  made  all  speed  to  mount 
his  horse,  and  several  times  rallied  his  men  ;  but  his 
efforts  were  unavailing  :  the  spirit  and  determined 
bravery  of  the  patriots  carried  all  before  them.  The 
rout  was  complete.  As  soon  as  Huck  and  another 
officer  fell,  his  men  threw  down  their  arms  and  fled.* 

*  It  is  said  that  Huck  was  shot  by  John  Carrol,  who,  as  well  as  his 
brother  Thomas,  was  a  brave  and  daring  soldier,  his  valor  being  always 
of  the  most  impetuous  kind.  A  brief,  but  characteristic  description 
of  him  lias  been  given  by  another  Revolutionary  hero:  "  He  was  a 


244  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

Some  were  killed,  or  mortally  wounded  ;  some  perished 
in  the  woods  ;  the  rest  escaped,  or  were  made  prisoners. 
In  the  pursuit  the  conflict  raged  around  Bratton's  house  ; 
and  Mrs.  Bratton  and  her  children,  anxious  to  look  out, 
were  in  some  danger  from  the  shots.  She  made  her 
little  son,  much  against  his  will,  sit  within  the  chimney. 
While  he  was  there,  a  ball  struck  against  the  opposite 
jam,  and  was  taken  up  by  him  as  a  trophy.  The  battle 
lasted  about  an  hour ;  it  was  bloody,  though  brief;  and 
it  is  stated  that  the  waters  of  the  spring,  which  now 
gush  forth  so  bright  and  transparent,  on  that  memorable 
spot,  were  then  crimsoned  with  the  tide  of  human  life. 
About  daylight,  when  the  firing  had  ceased,  Mrs.  Brat- 
ton  ventured  out,  anxious,  and  fearful  of  finding  her 
nearest  and  dearest  relatives  among  the  dead  and 
wounded  lying  around  her  dwelling.  But  none  of  her 
loved  ones  had  fallen.  Her  house  was  opened  alike  to 
the  wounded  on  both  sides ;  and  she  humanely  at 
tended  the  sufferers  in  person,  affording  them,  indiscrim 
inately,  every  relief  and  comfort  in  her  power  to 
bestow ;  feeding  and  nursing  them,  and  supplying 
their  wants  with  the  kindest  and  most  assiduous 
attention.  Thus  her  lofty  spirit  was  displayed  no  less 
by  her  humanity  to  the  vanquished,  than  by  her  courage 
and  resolution  in  the  hour  of  danger.  After  the  death 
of  Huck  in  battle,  the  officer  next  in  command  became 
the  leader  of  the  troops.  He  was  among  the  prisoners 
who  surrendered  to  the  whigs,  and  they  were  deter- 

whig  from  the   first — he  was   a  whig  to  the  last ;    he  didn't  believe  in 
the  tories,  and  he  made  the  tories  believe  in  him." 


MARTHA    BRATTON.  245 

mined  to  put  him  to  death.  He  entreated,  as  a  last 
favor,  to  be  conducted  to  the  presence  of  Mrs.  Bratton. 
She  instantly  recognized  him  as  the  officer  who  had  in 
terfered  in  her  behalf  and  saved  her  life.  Gratitude,  as 
well  as  the  mercy  natural  to  woman's  heart,  prompted 
her  now  to  intercede  for  him.  She  pleaded  wTith  an  elo 
quence  which,  considering  the  share  she  had  borne  in 
the  common  distress  and  danger,  could  not  be  withstood. 
Her  petition  was  granted ;  she  procured  his  deliverance 
from  the  death  that  awaited  him,  and  kindly  entertained 
him  till  he  was  exchanged.  There  is  hardly  a  situation 
in  romance  or  dramatic  fiction,  which  can  surpass  the 
interest  and  pathos  of  this  simple  incident. 

The  evening  before  the  battle,  Huck  and  his  troops 
had  stopped  on  their  way  at  the  house  of  Mrs.  Adair, 
on  South  Fishing  Creek,  at  the  place  where  the  road 
from  Yorkville  to  Chester  court-house  now  crosses  that 
stream.  They  helped  themselves  to  every  thing  eatable 
on  the  premises,  and  one  Captain  Anderson  laid  a  strict 
injunction  on  the  old  lady,  to  bring  her  sons  under  the 
royal  banner.  After  the  battle  had  been  fought,  Mrs. 
Adair  and  her  husband  were  sent  for  by  their  sons  arid 
Colonel  Edward  Lacy,  whom  they  had  brought  up,  for 
the  purpose  of  sending  them  into  North  Carolina  for 
safety.  When  Mrs.  Adair  reached  the  battle-ground, 
she  dismounted  from  her  horse,  and  passed  round 
among  her  friends.  Presently  she  came  with  her  sons 
to  a  tent  where  several  wounded  men  \vere  lying — An 
derson  among  them.  She  said  to  him,  "  Well,  Captain, 
you  ordered  me  last  night  to  bring  in  my  rebel  sons. 


246  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

Here  are  two  of  them;  and  if  the  third  had  been 
within  a  day's  ride,  he  would  have  been  here  also." 
The  chagrined  officer  replied,  "  Yes,  madam,  I  have 
seen  them."  Mrs.  Adair  was  the  mother  of  the  late 
Governor  John  Adair  of  Kentucky. 

Instances  of  the  noble  daring  of  the  women  of  that 
day,  thus  thrown  "  into  the  circle  of  mishap,"  and  com 
pelled  to  witness  so  many  horrors,  and  share  so  many 
dangers,  were  doubtless  of  almost  hourly  occurrence, 
But  of  the  individuals  whose  faithful  memory  retain 
ed  the  impression  of  those  scenes,  how  few  survive 
throughout  the  land!  Enquiries  made  on  this  subject 
are  continually  met  by  expressions  of  regret  that  some 
relative  who  has  within  a  few  years  descended  to  the 
grave,  was  not  alive  to  describe  events  of  those  trying 

times.  "  If  you  could  only  have  heard  or  

talk  of  Revolutionary  scenes,  volumes  might  have  been 
filled  with  the  anecdotes  they  remembered!"  is  the 
oft-repeated  exclamation,  which  causes  regret  that  the 
tribute  due  has  been  so  long  withheld  from  the  memory 
of  those  heroines. 

The  defeat  of  Huck  had  the  immediate  effect  of 
bringing  the  whigs  together  ;  and  in  a  few  days  a  large 
accession  of  troops  joined  the  army  of  Sumter.  The 
attack  on  the  ^British  at  Rocky  Mount  was  shortly 
followed  by  a  complete  victory  over  them  at  Hanging 
Rock. 

Another  anecdote  is  related  of  Mrs.  Bratton.  Before 
the  fall  of  Charleston,  when  effectual  resistance  through 
out  the  State  was  in  a  great  measure  rendered  impossible 


MARTHA    BRATTON.  247 

by  the  want  of  ammunition,  Governor  Rutledge  had 
sent  a  supply  to  all  the  regiments,  to  enable  them  to 
harass  the  invading  army.  Many  of  these  supplies 
were  secured  by  the  patriots  in  the  back  country,  by 
secreting  them  in  hollow  trees  and  the  like  hiding-places ; 
others  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy  or  were  destroy 
ed.  The  portion  given  to  Colonel  Bratton  was  in  his 
occasional  absence  from  home  confided  to  the  care  of 
his  wife.  Some  loyalists  who  heard  of  this,  informed 
the  British  officer  in  command  of  the  nearest  station, 
and  a  detachment  was  immediately  sent  forward  to 
secure  the  valuable  prize.  Mrs.  Bratton  was  informed 
of  their  near  approach,  and  was  aware  that  there  could  be 
no  chance  of  saving  her  charge.  She  resolved  that  the 
enemy  should  not  have  the  benefit  of  it.  She  therefore 
immediately  laid  a  train  of  powder  from  the  depot  to 
the  spot  where  she  stood,  and,  when  the  detachment 
came  in  sight,  set  fire  to  the  train,  and  blew  it  up.  The 
explosion  that  greeted  the  ears  of  the  foe,  informed 
them  that  the  object  of  their  expedition  was  frustrated. 
The  officer  in  command,  irritated  to  fury,  demanded  who 
had  dared  to  perpetrate  such  an  act,  and  threatened 
instant  and  severe  vengeance  upon  the  culprit.  The 
intrepid  woman  to  whom  he  owed  his  disappointment 
answered  for  herself.  "  It  was  I  who  did  it,"  she  replied. 
"  Let  the  consequence  be  what  it  will,  I  glory  in  having 
prevented  the  mischief  contemplated  by  the  cruel  enemies 
of  my  country." 

Mrs.  Bratton  was  a  native  of  Rowan  County,  North 
Carolina,  where  she  married  William  Bratton,  a  Penn- 


248  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

sylvanian  of  Irish  parentage,  who  resided  in  York 
District  in  the  State  of  South  Carolina.  The  grant  of 
his  land,  which  is  still  held  by  his  descendants,  was 
taken  out  under  George  the  Third.  In  the  troubled 
times  that  preceded  the  commencement  of  hostilities, 
the  decision  of  character  exhibited  by  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Bratton,  and  their  exemplary  deportment,  gave  them 
great  influence  among  their  neighbors.  Colonel  Bratton 
continued  in  active  service  during  the  war,  and  was 
prominent  in  the  battles  of  Rocky  Mount,  Hanging  Rock, 
Guilford,  etc.,  and  in  most  of  the  skirmishes  incident 
to  the  partisan  warfare  under  General  Sumter.  During 
his  lengthened  absences  from  home,  he  \vas  seldom 
able  to  see  or  communicate  with  his  family.  A  soldier's 
perils  add  lustre  to  his  deeds;  but  the  heart  of  the 
deeply  anxious  wife  must  have  throbbed  painfully  when 
she  heard  of  them.  She,  however,  never  complained, 
though  herself  a  sufferer  from  the  ravages  of  war ;  but 
devoted  herself  to  the  care  of  her  family,  striving  at  the 
same  time  to  aid  and  encourage  her  neighbors.  On 
the  return  of  peace,  her  husband  resumed  the  cultivation 
of  his  farm.  Grateful  for  the  preservation  of  their  lives 
and  property,  they  continued  industriously  occupied  in 
agricultural  pursuits  to  a  ripe  old  age,  enjoying  to  the 
full 

u  That  which  should  accompany  old  age, 
As  honor,  love,  obedience,  troops  of  friends." 

Colonel  Bratton  died  at  his  residence  two  miles  south 


MARTHA    BRATTON.  249 

of  Yorkville,  now  the  seat  of  Mrs.  Harriet  Bratton; 
and  his  wife,  having  survived  him  less  than  a  year, 
died  at  the  same  place  in  January,  1816.  They  were 
buried  by  the  side  of  each  other. 


U* 


XIX. 


JANE    THOMAS. 

THE  state  of  popular  feeling  after  the  occupation  of 
Charleston  by  .the  British,  and  during  the  efforts  made 
to  establish  an  undisputed  control  over  the  State,  might 
be  in  some  measure  illustrated  by  the  life  of  Mrs. 
Thomas,  jwere  there  materials  for  a  full  narrative  of 
incidents  in  which  she  and  her  neighbors  bore  an  active 
or  passive  part.  It  is  in  wild  and  stirring  times  that 
such  spirits  are  nurtured,  and  arise  in  their  strength. 
She  was  another  of  the  patriotic  females  in  whose 
breast  glowed  such  ardent  patriotism,  that  no  personal 
hazard  could  deter  from  service,-  wherever  service 
could  be  rendered.  She  was  a  native  of  Chester  County, 
Pennsylvania,  and  the  sister  of  the  Reverend  John 
Black,  of  Carlisle,  the  first  president  of  Dickinson 
College.  She  was  married  about  1740,  to  John  Thomas, 
supposed  to  be  a  native  of  Wales,  who  had  been  brought 
up  in  the  same  county.  Some  ten  or  fifteen  years 
after  his  marriage,  Mr.  Thomas  removed  to  South 
Carolina.  His  residence  for  some  time  was  upon 
Fishing  Creek  in  Chester  District.  About  the  year 
1762,  he  removed  to  what  is  now  called  Spartanburg 


JANE    THOMAS.  251 

District,  and  settled  upon  Fairforest  Creek,  a  few 
miles  above  the  spot  where  the  line  dividing  that  district 
from  Union  crosses  the  stream.  Mrs.  Thomas  was 
much  beloved  and  respected  in  that  neighborhood^  She 
was  one  of  the  first  members  of  the  Presbyterian  congre 
gation  organized  about  that  time,  and  known  as  Fair- 
forest  church,  of  which  she  continued  a  zealous  and 
efficient  member  as  long  as  she  resided  within  its 
bounds. 

For  many  years  previous  to  the  commencement  of 
the  Revolutionary  war,  Mr.  Thomas  was  a  magistrate 
and  a  captain  of 'militia./  Before  hostilities  began,  he 
resigned  both  these  commissions.  When  Colonel 
Fletcher  refused  to  accept  a  commission  under  the 
authority  of  the  province  of  South  Carolina,  an  election 
was  held,  arid  John  Thomas  was  chosen  Colonel  of  the 
Spartan  regiment.  The  proximity  of  this  regiment  to 
the  frontier  imposed  a  large  share  of  active  service  on 
the  soldiers  belonging  to  it,  andjdevolved  great  responsi 
bilities  upon  its  commander.  [  Colonel  Thomas  led  out 
his  quota  of  men  to  repel^the  Indians  in  1776,  and 
shared  the  privations  and  dangers  connected  with 
the  expedition  under  General  Williamson  into  the  heart 
of  the  Indian  territory,  in  the  autumn  of  that  year. 
When  that  campaign  terminated,  and  the  Indians  sued 
for  peace,  the  protection  of  a  long  line  of  the  •  frontier 
was  intrusted  to  him.  With  diligence,  fidelity  and  zeal 
did  he  perform  this  duty;  and  retained  his  command 
till  after  the  fall  of  Charleston. 

As  soon  as  the  news  of  the  surrender  of  that  city 


252  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

reached  the  borders  of  the  State,  measures  were  con 
certed  by  Colonels  Thomas,  Brandon  and  Lysles,  for 
the  concentration  of  their  forces  with  a  view  to  protect 
the  country.  Their  schemes  were  frustrated  by  the 
devices  of  Colonel  Fletcher,  who  still  remained  in  the 
neighborhood.  Having  discovered  their  intentions,  he 
gave  notice  to  .some  British  troops  recently  marched 
into  the  vicinity,  and  to  a  body  of  tory  cavalry  thirty 
miles  distant.  These  were  brought  together,  and  sur 
prised  the  force  collected  by  Brandon  at  the  point  desig 
nated,  before  the  others  had  time  to  arrive.  Within  a 
short  time  after  this  event,  almost  every  whig  between 
the  Broad  and  Saluda  rivers  was  compelled  to  abandon 
the  country  or  accept  British  protection.  Numbers  of 
them  fled  to  North  Carolina.  Colonel  Thomas,  then 
advanced  in  life,  with  some  others  in  like  defenceless 
circumstances,  took  protection.  By  this  course,  they 
hoped  to  secure  permission  to  remain  unmolested 
with  their  families ;  but  in  this  supposition  they  were 
lamentably  mistaken.  It  was  not  long  before  Colonel 
Thomas  wras  arrested,  antf  sent  to  prison  at  Ninety- 
Six.  Thence  he  was  conveyed  to  Charleston,  where 
he  remained  in  durance  till  near  the  close  of  the  war. 
It  was  the  policy  of  Cornwallis,  whom  Sir  Henry 
Clinton,  on  his  departure  to  New  York,  had  left  in 
command  of  the  royal  army,  to  compel  submission  by 
the  severest  measures.  The  bloody  slaughter  under 
Tarleton  at  Waxhaw  Creek,  was  an  earnest  of  what 
those  who  ventured  resistance  might  expect.  This 
course  was  pursued  with  unscrupulous  cruelty,  and  the 


JANE    THOMAS.  253 

unfortunate  patriots  were  made  to  feel  the  vengeance  of 
exasperated  tyranny.  He  hoped  thus  eventually  to 
crush  and  extinguish  the  spirit  still  struggling  and 
flashing  forth,  like  hidden  fire,  among  the  people  whom 
the  arm  of  power  had  for  a  season  brought  under  subjec 
tion.  But  the  oppressor,  though  he  might  overawe, 
could  not  subdue  the  spirit  of  a  gallant  and  outraged 
people.  The  murmur  of  suffering  throughout  the  land 
rose  ere  long  into  a  mighty  cry  for  deliverance.  The 
royal  standard  became  an  object  of  execration.  And 
while  brave  leaders  were  at  hand — while  the  fearless 
and  determined  Sumter  could  draw  about  him  the 
hardy  sons  of  the  upper  and  middle  country — while  the 
patriotic  Marion,  ever  fertile  in  resource,  could  harass 
the  foe  from  his  impenetrable  retreat  in  the  recesses  of 
forests  and  swamps ;  while  the  resolute  and  "daring 
Pickens  could  bring  his  bold  associates  to  join  in  the 
noble  determination  to  burst  the  chains  riveted  on  a 
prostrate  land — and  others  of  the  same  mould,  familiar 
with  difficulties,  accustomed  to  toil  and  danger,  and 
devoted  to  the  cause  of  their  suffering  country,  were 
ready  for  prompt  and  energetic  action — hope  could  be 
entertained  that  all  was  not  yet  lost.  The  outrages 
committed  by  the  profligate  and  abandoned,  whose 
loyalty  was  the  cover  for  deeds  of  rapine  and  blood, 
served  but  to  bind  in  closer  union  the  patriots  who 
watched  their  opportunity  for  annoying  the  enemy,  and 
opening  a  way  for  successful  resistance. 

One  of  the  congenial  co-operators  in  these  plans  of 
the   British   commander,  was   Colonel   Ferguson.     He 


254  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

encouraged  the  loyalists  to  take  arms,  and  led  them  to 
desolate  the  homes  of  their  neighbors.  About  the  last 
of  June  he  came  into  that  part  of  the  country  where 
the  family  of  Colonel  Thomas  lived,  and  caused  great 
distress  by  the  pillage  and  devastation  of  the  bands  of 
tories  who  hung  around  his  camp.  The  whigs  were 
robbed  of  their  negroes,  horses,  cattle,  clothing,  bedding, 
and  every  article  of  property  of  sufficient  value  to  take 
away.  These  depredations  were  frequent,  the  expedi 
tions  for  plunder  being  sometimes  weekly;  and  were 
continued  as  long  as  the  tories  could  venture  to  show 
their  faces.  In  this  state  of  things,  while  whole  families 
suffered,  female  courage  and  fortitude  wrere  called  into 
active  exercise;  and  Mrs.  Thomas  showed  herself  a 
bright  example  of  boldness,  spirit  and  determination. 

While  her  husband  was  a  prisoner  at  Ninety-Six, 
she  paid  a  visit  to  him  and  her  two  sons,  who  were  his 
companions  in  rigorous  captivity.  By  chance  she 
overheard  a  conversation  between  some  tory  women, 
the  purport  of  which  deeply  interested  her.  One  said 
to  the  others  :  "  To-morrow  night  the  loyalists  intend  to 
surprise  the  rebels  at  Cedar  Spring." 

The  heart  of  Mrs.  Thomas  was  thrilled  with  alarm 
at  this  intelligence.  The  Cedar  Spring  was  within  a 
few  miles  of  her  house ;  the  whigs  were  posted  there, 
and  among  them  were  some  of  her  own  children. 

Her  resolution  was  taken  at  once  ;  for  there  was  no 
time  to  be  lost.  She  determined  to  apprise  them  of  the 
enemy's  intention,  before  the  blow  could  be  struck. 
Bidding  a  hasty  adieu  to.  her  husband  and  sons,  she 


JANE    THOMAS.  255 

was  upon  the  road  as  quickly  as  possible ;  rode  the 
intervening  distance  of  nearly  sixty  miles  the  next  day, 
and  arrived  in  time  to  bring  information  to  her  sons 
and  friends  of  the  impending  danger.  The  moment 
they  knew  what  was  to  be  expected,  a  brief  consultation 
was  held ;  and  measures  were  immediately  taken  for 
defence.  The  soldiers  withdrew  a  short  distance  from 
their  camp-fires,  which  were  prepared  to  burn  as  brightly 
as  possible.  The  men  selected  suitable  positions  in  the 
surrounding  woods. 

Their  preparations  were  just  completed,  when  they 
heard  in  the  distance,  amid  the  silence  of  night,  the 
cautious  advance  of  the  foe.  The  scene  was  one  which 
imagination,  far  better  than  the  pen  of  the  chronicler, 
can  depict.  Slowly  and  warily,  and  with  tread  as 
noiseless  as  possible,  the  enemy  advanced ;  till  they 
were  already  within  the  glare  of  the  blazing  fires,  and 
safely,  as  it  seemed,  on  the  verge  of  their  anticipated 
work  of  destruction.  No  sound  betrayed  alarm;  they 
supposed  the  intended  victims  wrapped  in  heavy 
slumbers  ;  they  heard  but  the  crackling  of  the  flames, 
and  the  hoarse  murmur  of  the  wind  as  it  swept  through 
the  pine  trees.  The  assailants  gave  the  signal  for  the 
onset,  and  rushed  towards  the  fires — eager  for  indis 
criminate  slaughter.  Suddenly  the  flashes  and  shrill 
reports  of  rifles  revealed  the  hidden  champions  of  liberty. 
The  enemy,  to  their  consternation,  found  themselves 
assailed  in  the  rear  by  the  party  they  had  expected  to 
strike  unawares.  Thrown  into  confusion  by  this  unex 
pected  reception,  defeat,  overwhelming  defeat,  was 


956  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

the  consequence  to  the  loyalists.  They  were  about 
one  hundred  and  fifty  strong,  while  the  whigs  numbered 
only  about  sixty.  The  victory  thus  easily  achieved 
they  owed  to  the  spirit  and  courage  of  a  woman !  Such 
were  the  matrons  of  that  day. 

Not  merely  upon  this  occasion  was  Mrs.  Thomas 
active  in  conveying  intelligence  to  her  friends,  and  in 
arousing  the  spirit  of  Independence  among  its  advo 
cates.  She  did,  as  well  as  suffered  much,  during  the 
period  of  devastation  and  lawless  rapine.  One  instance 
of  her  firmness  is  well  remembered.  Early  in  the  war 
Governor  Rutledge  sent  a  quantity  of  arms  and  ammu 
nition  to  the  house  of  Colonel  Thomas,  to  be  in  readi 
ness  for  any  emergency  that  might  arise  on  the  frontier. 
These  munitions  were  under  a  guard  of  twenty-five 
men ;  and  the  house  was  prepared  to  resist  assault. 
Colonel  Thomas  received  information  that  a  large  party 
of  tories,  under  the  command  of  Colonel  More  of 
North  Carolina,  was  advancing  to  attack  him.  He 
and  his  guard  deemed  it  inexpedient  to  risk  an  en 
counter  with  a  force  so  much  superior  to  their  own ; 
and  they  therefore  retired,  carrying  off  as  much  am 
munition  as  possible.  Josiah  Culbertson,  a  son-in-law 
of  Colonel  Thomas,  who  was  with 'the  little  garrison, 
would  not  go  with  the  others,  but  remained  in  the 
house.  Besides  him  and  a  youth,  the  only  inmates 
were  women.  The  tories  advanced,  and  took  up  their 
station  ;  but  the  treasure  was  not  to  be  yielded  to  their 
demand.  Their  call  for  admittance  was  answered  by 
an  order  to  leave  the  premises ;  and  their  fire  was  re- 


JANE    THOMAS.  257 

ceived  without  much  injury  by  the  logs  of  the  house. 
The  fire  was  quickly  returned  from  the  upper  story, 
and  proved  much  more  effectual  than  that  of  the  assail 
ants.  The  old-fashioned  "batten  door,"  strongly  barri 
caded,  resisted  their  efforts  to  demolish  it.  Meanwhile 
Culbertson  continued  to  fire,  the  guns  being  loaded  as 
fast  as  he  discharged  them,  by  the  ready  hands  of  Mrs. 
Thomas  and  her  daughters,  aided  by  her  son  William  ; 
and  this  spirited  resistance  soon  convinced  the  enemy 
that  further  effort  was  useless.  Believing  that  many 
men  were  concealed  in  the  house,  and  apprehending  a 
sally,  their  retreat  was  made  as  rapidly  as  their  wounds 
would  permit.  After  waiting  a  prudent  time,  and  re- 
connoitering  as  well  as  she  could  from  her  position 
above,  Mrs.  Thomas  descended  the  stairs,  and  opened 
the  doors.  When  her  husband  made  his  appearance, 
and  knew  how  gallantly  the  plunderers  had  been  re 
pulsed,  his  joy  was  only  equalled  by  admiration  of  his 
wife's  heroism.  The  powder  thus  preserved  constituted 
the  principal  supply  for  Sumter's  army  in  the  battles  at 
Rocky  Mount  and  Hanging  Rock. 

Mrs.  Thomas  \vas  the  mother  of  nine  children ;  and 
her  sons  and  sons-in-law  were  active  in  the  American 
service.  John,  the  eldest  son,  rose  during  the  war 
from  the  rank  of  captain  till  he  succeeded  his  father  in 
the  command  of  the  Spartan  regiment.  This  he  com 
manded  at  the  battle  of  the  Cowpens,  and  elsewhere. 
He  was  with  Sumter  in  several  of  his  most  important 
engagements.  Robert,  another  son,  was  killed  in  Roe 
buck's  defeat.  Abram,  who  was  wounded  at  Ninety-Six 


258  WOMEN    OP    THE    REVOLUTION. 

and  taken  prisoner,  died  in  the  enemy's  hands.  Wil 
liam,  the  youth  who  had  assisted  in  defending  his  home 
on  the  occasion  mentioned,  took  part  in  o'ther  actions. 
Thus  Mrs.  Thomas  was  liable  to  some  share  of  the 
enmity  exhibited  by  the  royalists  towards  another 
matron,  against  whom  the  charge,  "  She  has  seven 
sons  in  the  rebel  army,"  was  an  excuse  for  depredations 
on  her  property.  If  she  had  but  four  sons,  she  had 
sons-in-law  who  were  likewise  brave  and  zealous  in  the 
cause.  Martha,  one  of  the  daughters,  married  Josiah 
Culbertson,  who  was  the  most  effective  scout  in  the 
country.  He  fought  the  Indians  single-handed  and  in 
the  army  ;  was  in  nearly  every  important  battle  ;  and 
killed  a  number  of  celebrated  tories  in  casual  encounter. 
He  seems  to  have  been  a  special  favorite  with  Colonel 
Isaac  Shelby,  in  whose  regiment  he  served  in  the  battle 
at  Musgrove's  Mill,  King's  Mountain,  and  elsewhere. 
To  this  officer  his  daring  spirit  and  deadly  aim  with 
the  rifle,  especially  commended  him ;  and  he  was  em 
ployed  by  Shelby  in  the  execution  of  some  important 
trusts.  He  received  a  captain's  commission  towards 
the  close  of  the  war. 

Ann  was  the  wife  of  Joseph  McJunkin,  who  entered 
the  service  of  his  country  as  a  private,  at  the  age  of 
twenty,  and  rose  to  the  rank  of  major  before  the  close 
of  1780.  He  was  in  most  of  the  battles  before  March, 
1781,  and  contributed  much  to  the  success  of  those 
fought  at  Hanging  Rock,  Musgrove's  Mill,  Blackstock's 
Ford,  and  the  Cowpens.  This  brave  and  faithful  officer 
died  in  1840.  A  sketch  of  his  life,  by  the  Rev.  James 


JANE    THOMAS.  259 

H.  Saye,  of  South  Carolina,  is  in  preparation,  and  has 
in  part  been  published. 

Jane,  the  third  daughter,  married  Captain  Joseph 
McCool ;  and  Letitia  was  the  wife  of  Major  James 
Lusk.  Both  these  were  brave  and  efficient  patriots ; 
but  the  scenes  of  their  exploits,  and  the  success  that 
attended  them,  are  now  remembered  but  in  tradition. 
Of  how  many  who  deserve  the  tribute  of  their  coun 
try's  gratitude,  is  history  silent !  Every  member  of  this 
family,  it  will  thus  be  seen,  had  a  personal  interest  in 
the  cause  of  the  country. 

Not  only  was  Mrs.  Thomas  distinguished  for  her  in 
domitable  perseverance  where  principle  and  right  were 
concerned,  and  for  her  ardent  spirit  of  patriotism,  but 
for  eminent  piety,  discretion,  and  industry.  Her  daugh 
ters  exhibited  the  same  loveliness  of  character,  with  the 
uncommon  beauty  of  person  which  they  inherited  from 
her.  All  accounts  represent  Mrs.  Culbertson  as  a  wo 
man  of  great  beauty  ;  and  her  sister  Ann  is  said  to 
have  been  little  inferior  to  her  in  personal  appearance. 
Mrs.  Thomas  herself  was  rather  below  the  ordinary 
stature,  with  black  eyes  and  hair,  rounded  and  pleasing 
features,  fair  complexion,  and  countenance  sprightly 
and  expressive. 

Soon  after  the  close  of  the  war,  Colonel  Thomas 
removed  into  Greenville  district,  where  he  and  his  wife 
resided  till  their  death.  But  few  of  their  descendants 
remain  in  the  section  of  country  where  their  parents 
lived,  being  scattered  over  the  regions  of  the  far  West. 
To  the  gentleman  already  mentioned  as  the  biographer 


260  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

of  McJunkin,  I  am  indebted  for  all  these  details,  Ascer 
tained  from  authentic  papers  in  his  possession. 


A  FEW  anecdotes  of  other  women  in  the  region 
where  Mrs.  Thomas  lived  during  the  war,  are  of  inte 
rest  as  showing  the  state  of  the  times.  Isabella  Sims, 
the  wife  of  Captain  Charles  Sims,  resided  on  Tyger 
River,  six  or  seven  miles  below  the  scene  of  Brandon's 
defeat,  above  mentioned,  on  Fairforest  Creek.  When 
she  heard  of  that  disaster,  she  went  up  and  devoted 
herself  for  several  days  to  nursing  the  wounded  soldiers. 
Daniel  McJunkin  shared  her  maternal  care,  and  re 
covered  to  render  substantial  service  afterwards. 

On  another  occasion,  having  heard  the  noise  of  battle 
during  the  afternoon  and  night,  she  went  up  early  in 
the  morning  to  Leighton's.  A  scout  consisting  of  eight 
whigs  had  been  surrounded  by  a  very  large  body  of 
tories.  Some  of  the  scouts  made  their  escape  by  charg 
ing  through  the  line  ;  four  defended  themselves  in  the 
house  till  after  dark,  when  they  surrendered.  Mrs, 
Sims,  on  her  arrival,  found  that  John  Jolly,  a  whig 
officer  who  belonged  to  the  vicinity,  had  been  shot  in 
attempting  to  escape.  She  sent  for  his  wife,  and  made 
the  necessary  arrangements  for  his  decent  burial. 
Sarah,  his  widow,  was  left  with  five  children ;  and  for 
a  time  had  great  difficulty  in  procuring  a  subsistence. 
Her  house  was  visited  almost  weekly  by  plundering 
parties,  and  robbed  of  food  and  clothing.  At  one  time 


MBS.    SIMS    AND    MRS.    OTTERSON.  261 

one  of  the  robbers  remained  after  the  others  had  gone  ; 
and  to  an  order  to  depart  returned  a  refusal,  with  abu 
sive  and  profane  language.  The  exasperated  mother 
seized  a  stick,  with  which  she  broke  his  arm,  and  drove 
him  from  the  premises. 

Not  long  after  the  death  of  Jolly,  the  famous  Cun 
ningham,  a  tory  colonel  who  acted  a  prominent  part  in 
the  partisan  warfare  of  Laurens,  Newberry,  and  Edge- 
field  districts,  came  with  a  squadron  of  cavalry  to  the 
house  of  Captain  Sims,  who  was  gone  for  safety  to 
North  Carolina.  Calling  Mrs.  Sims  to  the  door,  Cun 
ningham  ordered  her  to  quit  the  place  in  three  days  ; 
saying  if  he  found  the  family  there  on  his  return,  he 
would  shut  them  in  the  house  and  burn  it  over  them. 
Mrs.  Sims  fled  with  her  family  across  the  country  to 
the  house  of  a  friendly  old  man  ;  and  remained  there 
till  her  husband  came  and  took  them  to  York  District, 
and  thence  to  Virginia. 

The  wife  of  Major  Samuel  Otterson,  a  distinguished 
patriot,  who  lived  also  on  Tyger  River,  chanced  to 
know  the  place  where  a  barrel  of  powder  was  con-, 
cealed  in  the  woods  close  at  hand.  She  received  intel 
ligence  one  night  that  a  party  of  tories  would  come  for 
the  treasure  the  next  morning.  Resolved  that  it  should 
not  fall  into  their  hands,  she  prepared  a  train  imme 
diately,  and  blew  up  the  powder.  In  the  morning  came 
the  enemy,  and  on  their  demand  for  it,  were  told  by 
Mrs.  Otterson  what  she  had  done.  They  refused  to 
believe  her,  but  cut  off  her  dress  at  the  waist,  and  drove 


262  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

her  before  them  to  show  the  place  of  deposit.  The 
evidence  of  its  fate  was  conclusive,  when  they  reached 
the  spot. 

Other  instances  of  female  intrepidity  are  rife  in 
popular  memory.  Miss  Nancy  Jackson,  who  lived  in 
the  Irish  settlement  near  Fairforest  Creek,  kicked  a 
tory  down  the  steps  as  he  was  descending  loaded  with 
plunder.  In  a  great  rage  he  threatened  to  send  the 
Hessian  troops  there  next  day;  which  obliged  her  to 
take  refuge  with  an  acquaintance  several  miles  distant. 
On  one  occasion  the  house  of  Samuel  McJunkin,  a 
stout  patriot,  but  too  old  for  the  battle-field,  was  visited 
by  a  party  under  the  noted  Colonel  Patrick  Moore. 
They  stayed  all  night ;  and  when  about  to  depart,  strip 
ped  the  house  of  bed-clothes  and  wearing  apparel. 
The  last  article  taken  was  a  bed-quilt,  which  one  Bill 
Haynesworth  placed  upon  his  horse.  Jane,  Mr.  McJun- 
kin's  daughter,  seized  it,  and  a  struggle  ensued.  The 
soldiers  amused  themselves  by  exclaiming,  "  Well  done, 
woman !" — "  Well  done,  Bill !"  For  once  the  colonel's 
feelings  of  gallantry  predominated ;  and  he  swore  if 
Jane  could  take  the  quilt  from  the  man,  she  should  have 
it.  Presently  in  the  contest,  Bill's  feet  slipped  from 
under  him,  and  he  lay  panting  on  the  ground.  Jane 
placed  one  foot  upon  his  breast  and  wrested  the  quilt 
from  his  grasp. 


XX. 


DORCAS    RICHARDSON.* 

FRUITFUL  in  noble  spirits  were  those  wild  and  gloomy 
times  ;  and  woman's  high  truth  and  heroic  devotion 
poured  a  solemn  radiance  over  the  dreary  and  appalling 
scenes  of  civil  war.  No  pen  has  recorded  the  instances 
innumerable  in  which  her  virtues  shone  conspicuous ; 
they  are  forgotten  by  those  who  enjoy  the  benefits  thus 
secured ;  or  but  a  vague  recollection  remains — or  an 
example  is  here  and  there  remembered  in  family  tra 
dition.  Even  to  these  examples  what  meagre  justice 
can  be  done  by  the  few  scattered  and  desultory  anec 
dotes  which  must  take  the  place  of  a  complete  his 
tory! 

Living  in  the  midst  of  the  storm  and  struggle,  and 
bearing  more  than  her  own  share  of  the  terrible  trials 
which  fell  to  woman's  lot,  Mrs.  Richardson  afforded  an 
example  of  modest  heroism,  and  of  humble,  cheerful 
faith.  Her  residence  was  in  Clarendon,  Sumter  Dis 
trict.  She  was  the  daughter  of  Captain  John  Nelson, 

*  For  the  details  of  this  sketch  I  am  indebted  to  the  kindness  of 
DR.  JOSEPH  JOHNSON,  of  Charleston,  who  has  collected  and  pre 
served  many  interesting  anecdotes  of  the  war  in  South  Carolina. 


2()4  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

a  native  of  Ireland,  who  married  Miss  Brownson,  of 
South  Carolina.  The  ferry  over  the  Santee  River, 
established  and  kept  for  several  years  by  them,  is  still 
called  Nelson's  Ferry  ;  and  many  of  their  descendants 
continue  to  live  on  both  sides  of  the  river.  It  is  said 
that  Lord  Cornwallis,  on  his  march  into  the  interior, 
after  the  fall  of  Charleston,  established  his  head-quarters 
at  this  ferry,  at  the  house  of  the  widow  Nelson.  She 
received  from  him  an  assurance  that  her  property 
should  be  protected.  When  a  large  quantity  of  plate 
which  she  had  buried  for  security  was  discovered  and 
claimed  as  a  prize  by  the  captors,  she  reminded  his 
lordship  of  his  promise  ;  but  he  refused  to  order  the  re 
storation  of  the  plate,  saying  that  the  protection  he  had 
pledged  extended  only  to  things  above  ground  ! 

Dorcas  wras  married  at  the  age  of  twenty,  in  1761, 
and  removed  to  her  husband's  plantation,  situated  about 
twenty  miles  further  up  the  river,  on  the  east  side,  near 
the  junction  of  the  Congaree  and  Wateree.  In  this 
home  of  peace,  contentment,  and  abundance,  she  en 
joyed  all  the  comforts  of  southern  country  life  among 
the  prosperous  class,  till  the  outburst  of  that  storm  in 
which  the  fortunes  and  happiness  of  so  many  patriots 
were  wrecked. 

At  the  commencement  of  the  war  Richard  Richard 
son  was  captain  of  a  company  of  militia  in  the  brigade 
of  his  father  General  Richardson  ;  and  with  him  em 
braced  the  quarrel  of  the  Colonies,  in  defence  of  their 
chartered  rights.  Both  were  zealous,  firm,  and  influ 
ential  officers.  The  captain  was  frequently  called  out 


DORCAS    RICHARDSON.  265 

with  his  company  by  order  of  the  new  government ; 
and  his  first  expedition  was  against  the  loyalists  in  the 
upper  districts,  incited  by  the  royal  governor,  Lord 
William  Campbell.  General  Richardson  commanded, 
and  was  aided  by  Colonel  William  Thompson  with  his 
regiment  of  regulars  called  the  Rangers.  The  enemy 
was  dispersed,  most  of  their  leaders  captured,  and  the 
arms  and  ammunition  they  had  seized  recovered.  Cap 
tain  Richardson  was  appointed  with  his  mounted  men 
to  'guard  the  prisoners  to  Charleston.  This  occurrence 
took  place  at  the  close  of  1775  ;  and  the  winter  having 
set  in  earlier  than  usual  with  uncommon  severity,  the 
young  soldiers  suffering  much  from  the  cold,  sleet,  and 
snow,  it  was  called  the  Snow  Campaign. 

When  the  three  regiments  of  regulars  \vere  raised 
and  officered  in  1775,  Captain  Richardson  and  his 
father  were  retained  in  the  militia  on  account  of  their 
great  popularity  and  influence;  Edward,  a  younger 
brother,  being  appointed  captain  of  the  Rangers  under 
Colonel  Thompson.  A  second  regiment  of  riflemen, 
however,  was  raised  in  March  of  the  following  year ; 
and  Richard  Richardson  was  appointed  captain  under 
Colonel  Thomas  Sumter.  From  this  time,  during  the 
six  succeeding  years,  he  was  able  to  be  very  little  at 
home  with  his  family.  At  the  surrender  of  Charleston 
he  was  taken  prisoner  with  his  father  and  brother.  In 
violation  of  the  terms  of  capitulation,  Richard  was 
sent  to  a  military  station  on  John's  Island,  where  he 
nearly  fell  a  victim  to  the  small-pox.  The.  British  hav 
ing  failed  to  observe  the  conditions  on  which  he  had 
12 


266  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

surrendered,  as  soon  as  he  recovered  sufficiently  to 
move  about,  he  made  his  escape  ;  and  being  disguised 
by  the  effects  of  the  disease,  returned  to  the  neighbor 
hood  of  his  home,  where  he  concealed  himself  in  the 
Santee  Swamp.  This  extensive  swamp-land  borders 
the  river  for  many  miles,  presenting  to  the  view  a  vast 
plain  of  dense  woods  which  seem  absolutely  imper 
vious.  The  recesses  of  those  dark  thickets,  where  the 
trees  grow  close  together,  and  are  interlaced  by  a  luxu 
riant  growth  of  giant  creepers,  often  afforded  hiding- 
places  for  the  hunted  Americans.  At  this  time  the 
British  troops  had  overrun  the  State ;  and  Colonel 
Tarleton  had  made  the  house  of  Captain  Richardson, 
with  some  others,  a  station  for  his  regiment  of  cavalry. 
They  lived  luxuriously  on  the  abundance  of  his  richly- 
stocked  and  well-cultivated  plantation  ;  while  Mrs. 
Richardson  and  her  children,  it  is  said,  were  restricted 

c 

to  a  single  apartment,  and  allowed  but  a  scanty  share 
of  the  provisions  furnished  from  her  own  stores.  Here 
was  an  occasion  for  the  exercise  of  self-denial,  that  the 
wants  of  one  dear  to  her  might  be  supplied.  Every 
day  she  sent  food  from  her  small  allowance  to  her  hus 
band  in  the  swamp,  by  an  old  and  faithful  negro,  in 
whose  care  and  discretion  she  could  implicitly  trust. 
She  had  expected  the  seizure  of  her  horses  and  cattle 
by  the  British,  and  had  sent  Richardson's  favorite 
riding-horse  into  the  swamp  for  concealment,  with  a 
few  cattle  which  she  wished  to  save  for  future  need. 
Every  thing  that  fell  into  the  enemy's  hands  was  con 
sumed.  The  horse  was  shut  up  in  a  covered  pen  in 


DORCAS    RICHARDSON.  267 

the  woods,  which  had  once  been  used  for  holding  corn  ; 
and  he  thence  received  the  name  of  Corncrib.  He 
was  subsequently  killed  in  the  battle  of  Eutaw. 

Mrs.  Richardson  not  only  sent  provisions  to  her  hus 
band  in  his  place  of  shelter,  but  sometimes  ventured  to 
visit  him,  taking  with  her  their  little  daughter.  These 
stolen  meetings  were  full  of  consolation  to  the  fugitive 
soldier.  The  spot  he  had  chosen  for  his  retreat  was  a 
small  knoll  or  elevation  in  the  heart  of  the  swamp, 
called  "  John's  Island,"  by  way  of  distinction  from 
another  in  the  neighborhood,  occupied  by  other  whigs, 
which  bore  the  name  of  "  Beech  Island."  On  this 
many  of  their  initials  may  still  be  seen,  carved  on  the 
bark  of  the  trees. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  British  had  information  of 
Richardson's  escape.  They  naturally  concluded  that 
he  was  somewhere  in  the  vicinity  of  his  family  and 
relatives.  A  diligent  search  was  instituted ;  scouts 
were  sent  in  every  direction,  and  they  watched  to  sur 
prise  him,  or  find  some  clue  to  his  retreat.  In  secret 
and  publicly  rewards  were  offered  for  his  apprehension ; 
but  without  success.  One  day  an  officer,  caressing  the 
little  girl,  asked  when  she  had  seen  her  papa ;  the  mo 
ther  grew  pale,  but  dared  not  speak,  for  a  short  time 
only  had  elapsed  since  the  child  had  been  taken  on  a 
visit  to  her  father.  The  thoughtless  prattler  answered 
promptly,  that  she  had  seen  him  only  a  few  days  before. 
"  And  where  ?"  asked  the  officer,  eager  to  extract  in 
formation  from  innocent  lips  that  might  betray  the 
patriot.  The  child  replied  without  hesitation,  "  On 


268  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

John's  Island."  The  officer  knew  of  no  place  so  called 
except  the  large  sea  island  from  which  Richardson  had 
escaped.  After  a  moment's  reflection,  he  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  the  child  had  been  dreaming,  and  re 
lieved  the  mother's  throbbing  heart  by  saying,  "  Pshaw, 
that  was  a  long  time  ago  !"  It  may  well  be  believed 
that  the  little  tell-tale  was  not  trusted  with  another  visit 
to  the  spot. 

Not  unfrequently  did  the  officers,  in  the  most  unfeel 
ing  manner,  boast  in  the  presence  of  the  wife,  of  what 
they  would  do  to  her  husband  when  they  should  cap 
ture  him.  Once  only  did  she  deign  the  reply,  "  I  do 
not  doubt  that  men  who  can  outrage  the  feelings  of  a 
woman  by  such  threats,  are  capable  of  perpetrating  any 
act  of  treachery  and  inhumanity  towards  a  brave  but 
unfortunate  enemy.  But  conquer  or  capture  my  hus 
band,  if  you  can  do  so,  before  you  boast  the  cruelty 
you  mean  to  mark  your  savage  triumph !  And  let  me 
tell  you,  meanwhile,  that  some  of  you,  it  is  likely,  will 
be  in  a  condition  to  implore  his  mercy,  before  he  will 
have  need  to  supplicate,  or  deign  to  accept  yours." 
This  prediction  was  literally  verified  in  more  than  one 
instance  during  the  eventful  remainder  of  the  war. 

Tarleton  himself  was  frequently  present  during  these 
scenes,  apparently  a  pleased,  though  generally  a  silent 
spectator.  He  would  remark  at  times,  in  the  way  of 
self-vindication,  "that  he  commiserated  the  trials,  and 
wondered  at  the  endurance,  of  this  heroic  woman  ;  but 
that  his  sanction  of  such  proceedings  was  necessary  to 
the  success  of  His  Majesty's  cause."  Weak  cause, 


DORCAS    RICHARDSON.  269 

indeed,  that  was  constrained  to  wring  the  cost  of  its 
maintenance  from  the  bleeding  hearts  of  wives  and 
mothers ! 

On  one  occasion  some  of  the  officers  displayed  in  the 
sight  of  Mrs.  Richardson,  their  swords  reeking  with 
blood — probably  that  of  her  cattle — and  told  her  it  was 
the  blood  of  Captain  Richardson,  whom  they  had 
killed.  At  another  time  they  brought  intelligence  that 
he  had  been  taken  and  hanged.  In  this  state  of  cruel 
suspense  she  sometimes  remained  for  several  successive 
days,  unable  to  learn  the  fate  of  her  husband,  and  not 
knowing  whether  to  believe  or  distrust  the  horrible 
tales  brought  to  her  ears. 

One  day,  when  the  troops  were  absent  on  some  expedi 
tion,  Captain  Richardson  ventured  on  a  visit  to  his 
home.  A  happy  hour  was  it  to  the  anxious  wife  and 
faithful  domestics,  when  they  could  greet  him  once 
more  in  his  own  mansion.  But  before  he  thought  of 
returning  to  his  refuge  in  the  forest,  a  patrolling  party 
of  the  enemy  appeared  unexpectedly  at  the  gate.  Mrs. 
Richardson's  presence  of  mind  and  calm  courage  were 
in  instant  requisition,  and  proved  the  salvation  of  the 
hunted  patriot.  Seeing  the  British  soldiers  about  to 
come  in,  she  pretended  to  be  intently  busy  about  some 
thing  in  the  front  door,  and  stood  in  the  way,  retarding 
their  entrance.  The  least  appearance  of  agitation  or 
fear — the  least  change  of  color — might  have  betrayed 
all  by  exciting  suspicion.  But  with  a  self-control  as 
rare  as  admirable,  she  hushed  even  the  wild  beating  of 
her  heart,  and  continued  to  stand  in  the  way,  till  her 


270  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

husband  had  time  to  retire  through  the  back  door,  into 
the  swamp  near  at  hand.  The  brave  captain  was  not 
idle  in  his  seclusion ;  but  collecting  around  him  the 
whigs  of  his  acquaintance  who  remained  firm  in  their 
devotion  to  their  native  land,  he  trained  them  daily  in 
cavalry  exercise.  When  Tarleton  ravaged  the  planta 
tion  and  burnt  the  dwelling  of  his  deceased  father, 
General  Richardson,  he  passed  so  near  the  ruins  as  to 
see  the  extent  of  the  desolation.  General  Marion  hap 
pened  at  that  time  to  be  in  a  very  critical  situation,  and 
unaware  of  the  great  superiority  of  the  enemy's  force 
close  at  hand.  The  gallant  Richardson  hastened  to  his 
aid ;  joined  him,  and  conducted  the  retreat  of  his  army, 
which  was  immediately  commenced  and  successfully  exe 
cuted.  The  British  were  not  long  in  discovering  that 
the  captain  had  joined  the  forces  of  Marion ;  and  their 
deportment  to  his  wife  was  at  once  changed.  One  and 
all  professed  a  profound  respect  for  her  brave  and 
worthy  husband,  whose  services  they  were  desirous  of 
securing.  They  endeavored  to  obtain  her  influence 
to  prevail  on  him  to  join  the  royal  army,  by  promises 
of  pardon,  wealth,  and  honorable  promotion.  The  high- 
spirited  wife  treated  all  such  offers  with  the  contempt 
they  deserved,  and  refused  to  be  made  instrumental  to 
their  purposes.  They  then  despatched  his  brother 
Edward,  who  was  a  prisoner  on  parole  upon  the  adjoin 
ing  plantation,  to  be  the  bearer  of  their  offers.  By  him 
Mrs.  Richardson  also  sent  a  message  to  her  husband. 
It  was  to  assure  him  that  she  did  not  join  in  British 
solicitations  ;  that  she  and  her  children  were  well,  and 


DORCAS    RICHARDSON.  271 

provided  with  abundance  of  every  thing  necessary  for 
their  comfort.  Thus  with  heroic  art  did  she  conceal 
the  privations  and  wants  she  was  suffering,  lest  her 
husband's  solicitude  for  her  and  his  family  might  tempt 
him  to  waver  from  strict  obedience  to  the  dictates  of 
honor  and  patriotism. 

Edward  went  as  directed  to  the  American  camp, 
took  his  brother  into  Marion's  presence,  and  there  faith 
fully  delivered  both  messages  with  which  he  had  been 
charged.  The  specious  offers  from  the  enemy  were  of 
course  rejected,  and  the  messenger,  conceiving  himself 
absolved  from  his  parole  by  the  treatment  he  had  re 
ceived,  remained  with  Marion  till  the  termination  of 
hostilities  in  the  State. 

Several  times  after  this  did  Richard  place  his  life  in 
peril  to  visit  his  amiable  family.  Hearing  that  Tarle- 
ton's  troop  had  been  ordered  away  from  his  plantation, 
he  obtained  permission  to  go  thither  for  a  short  time. 
He  arrived  in  safety ;  but  had  been  seen  on  his  way  by 
a  loyalist.  A  party  of  them  was  immediately  assembled, 
and  was  soon  to  be  seen  drawn  up  in  front  of  his  house. 
Corncrib,  the  faithful  steed,  was  hitched  outside  the 
gate  ;  his  master  hastily  came  forth,  leaped  on  him,  and 
galloping  up  the  avenue,  where  the  enemy  were  posted, 
passed  through  the  midst  of  them  without  receiving 
either  a  shot  or  a  sabre  wound.  Just  as  he  passed 
their  ranks,  one  of  his  well-known  neighbors  fired  at 
him,  but  missed  the  aim.  All  this  took  place  in  the 
sight  of  his  terrified  family,  who  often  afterwards  de 
scribed  his  danger  and  providential  escape.  His  wife 


272  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

could  only  account  for  this  by  conjecturing  that  the 
party  had  determined  to  take  Richardson  alive,  and 
thus  claim  the  reward  offered  for  his  apprehension ;  and 
that  when  in  their  midst,  they  could  not  shoot  him 
without  the  risk  of  killing  some  of  their  comrades.  His 
daring  gallantry  entirely  disconcerted  them,  and  saved 
his  life. 

Some  time  after  this,  he  again  asked  the  indulgence 
of  a  visit  to  his  family ;  but  General  Marion  in  granting 
it,  mindful  of  the  danger  he  had  before  encountered, 
insisted  that  he  should  be  accompanied  by  an  escort. 
The  party  had  scarcely  reached  the  house  of  Richard 
son,  when,  as  before,  a  large  body  of  British  and  tories 
was  seen  advancing  rapidly  down  the  avenue,  eager  to 
surprise  their  intended  victims.  To  remount  in  all 
haste  their  wearied  steeds,  and  rush  down  the  bank  at 
the  rear  of  the  house,  seeking  concealment  in  the  swamp, 
offered  the  only  chance  for  escape.  In  this  they  all 
succeeded,  except  a  young  man  named  Roberts,  with 
whom  Mrs.  Richardson  was  well  acquainted,  and  who 
was  taken  prisoner.  In  vain  did  she  intercede  for  him 
with  the  British  officers,  and  with  streaming  eyes 
implore  them  to  spare  the  life  of  the  unfortunate  youth. 
They  hanged  him  on  a  walnut  tree  only  a  few  paces 
from  her  door,  and  compelled  her  to  witness  the  revolt 
ing  spectacle !  When  she  complained  with  tears  of 
anguish,  of  this  cruelty  to  herself,  and  barbarity  towards 
one  who  had  offended  by  risking  his  life  in  defence  of 
her  husband,  they  jeeringly  told  her  they  "  would  soon 
have  him  also,  and  then  she  should  see  him  kick  like 


DORCAS    RICHARDSON.  273 

that  fellow."  To  such  atrocities  could  the  passions  of 
brutalized  men  lead  them,  even  in  an  age  and  nation 
that  boasted  itself  the  most  enlightened  on  earth! 

When  peace  returned  to  shed  blessings  over  the 
land,  Mrs.  Richardson  continued  to  reside  in  the  same 
house,  with  her  family.  Tarleton  and  his  troopers  had 
wasted  the  plantation,  and  destroyed  every  thing  movea- 
ble  about  the  dwelling ;  but  the  buildings  had  been 
spared,  because  they  were  spacious,  and  afforded  a 
convenient  station  for  the  British,  about  midway  be 
tween  Camden  and  Fort  Watson  on  Scott's  Lake. 
Colonel  Richardson,  who  had  been  promoted  for  his 
meritorious  service  in  the  field,  cheerfully  resumed  the 
occupations  of  a  planter.  His  circumstances  were 
much  reduced  by  the  chances  of  war ;  but  a  competence 
remained,  which  he  and  his  wife  enjoyed  in  tranquillity 
and  happiness,  surrounded  by  affectionate  relatives  and 
friendly  neighbors.  Of  their  ten  children,  four  died 
young;  the  rest  married  and  reared  families. 

Mrs.  Richardson  survived  her  husband  many  years, 
and  died  at  the  advanced  age  of  ninety-three,  in  1834. 
She  was  remarkable  throughout  life  for  the  calm  judg 
ment,  fortitude,  and  strength  of  mind,  which  had  sustain 
ed  her  in  the  trials  she  suffered  during  the  war,  and  pro 
tected  her  from  injury  or  insult  when  surrounded  by  a 
lawless  soldiery.  To  these  elevated  qualities  she  united 
unostentatious  piety,  and  a  disposition  of  uncommon 
serenity  and  cheerfulness.  Her  energy  and  consola 
tions,  through  the  vicissitudes  of  life,  were  derived  from 
religion ;  it  was  her  hope  and  triumph  in  the  hour  of  death. 
12* 


XXI. 


ELIZABETH,  GRACE,   AND   RACHEL   MARTIN. 

THE  daring  exploit  of  two  women  in  Ninety-Six 
District,  furnishes  an  instance  of  courage  as  striking  as 
any  remembered  among  the  traditions  of  South  Carolina. 
During  the  sieges  of  Augusta  and  Cambridge,  the  patri 
otic  enthusiasm  that  prevailed  among  the  people  prompt 
ed  to  numerous  acts  of  personal  risk  and  sacrifice.  This 
spirit,  encouraged  by  the  successes  of  Sumter  and 
others  over  the  British  arms,  was  earnestly  fostered  by 
General  Greene,  whose  directions  marked  at  least  the 
outline  of  every  undertaking.  In  the  efforts  made  to 
strike  a  blow  at  the  invader's  power,  the  sons  of  the 
Martin  family  were  among  the  most  distinguished  for 
active  service  rendered,  and  for  injuries  sustained  at 
the  enemy's  hands.  The  wives  of  the  two  eldest,  during 
their  absence,  remained  at  home  with  their  mother-in- 
law.  One  evening  intelligence  came  to  them  that  a 
courier,  conveying  important  despatches  to  one  of  the 
upper  stations,  was  to  pass  that  night  along  the  road, 
guarded  by  two  British  officers.  They  determined  to 
waylay  the  party,  and  at  the  risk  of  their  lives,  to  obtain 
possession  of  the  papers.  For  this  purpose  -  the  two 


ELIZABETH,    GRACE,    AND    RACHEL    MARTIN.  275 

young  women  disguised  themselves  in  their  husbands' 
clothes,  and  being  well  provided  with  arms,  took  their 
station  at  a  point  on  the  road  which  they  knew  the 
escort  must  pass.  It  was  already  late,  and  they  had 
not  waited  long  before  the  tramp  of  horses  was  heard 
in  the  distance.  It  may  be  imagined  with  what  anxious 
expectation  the  heroines  awaited  the  approach  of  the 
critical  moment  on  which  so  much  depended.  The 
forest  solitude  around  them,  the  silence  of  night,  and  the 
darkness,  must  have  added  to  the  terrors  conjured  up 
by  busy  fancy.  Presently  the  courier  appeared,  with 
his  attendant  guards.  As  they  came  close  to  the  spot, 
the  disguised  women  leaped  from  their  covert  in  the 
bushes,  presented  their  pistols  at  the  officers,  and  demand 
ed  the  instant  surrender  of  the  party  and  their  despatches. 
The  men  were  completely  taken  by  surprise,  and  in 
their  alarm  at  the  sudden  attack,  yielded  a  prompt  sub 
mission.  The  seeming  soldiers  put  them  on  their  parole, 
and  having  taken  possession  of  the  papers,  hastened 
home  by  a  short  cut  through  the  woods.  No  time  was  lost 
in  sending  the  important  documents  by  a  trusty  messen 
ger  to  General  Greene.  The  adventure  had  a  singular 
termination.  The  paroled  officers,  thus  thwarted  in 
their  mission,  returned  by  the  road  they  had  taken,  and 
stopping  at  the  house  of  Mrs.  Martin,  asked  accommoda 
tion  as  weary  travellers,  for  the  night.  The  hostess 
inquired  the  reason  of  their  returning  so  soon  after 
they  had  passed.  They  replied  by  showing  their  paroles, 
saying  they  had  been  taken  prisoners  by  two  rebel  lads. 
The  ladies  rallied  them  upon  their  want  of  intrepidity. 


276  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

"  Had  you  no  arms  ?"  was  asked.  The  officers  answer 
ed  that  they  had  arms,  but  had  been  suddenly  taken  off 
their  guard,  and  were  allowed  no  time  to  use  their 
weapons.  They  departed  the  next  morning,  having  no 
suspicion  that  they  owed  their  capture  to  the  very 
women  whose  hospitality  they  had  claimed. 

The  mother  of  this  patriotic  family  was  a  native  of 
Caroline  .County,  Virginia.  Her  name  was  Elizabeth 
Marshall,  and  she  was  probably  of  the  same  family  with 
Chief  Justice  Marshall,  as  she  belonged  to  the  same 
neighborhood.  After  her  marriage  to  Abram  Martin, 
she  removed  to  his  settlement  bordering  on  the  Indian 
nation,  in  Ninety-Six,  now  Edgefield  District,  South 
Carolina.  The  country  at  that  time  was  sparsely 
settled,  most  of  its  inhabitants  being  pioneers  from  other 
States,  chiefly  from  Virginia;  and  their  neighborhood  to 
the  Indians  had  caused  the  adoption  of  some  of  their 
savage  habits.  The  name  Edgefield  is  said  to  have 
been  given  because  it  was  at  that  period  the  edge  or 
boundary  of  the  respectable  settlers  and  their  cultivated 
fields.  Civilization,  however,  increased  with  the  popu 
lation  ;  and  in  the  time  of  the  Revolution,  Ninety-Six 
was  among  the  foremost  in  sending  into  the  field  its 
quota  of  hardy  and  enterprising  troops,  to  oppose  the 
British  and  their  savage  allies. 

At  the  commencement  of  the  contest,  Mrs.  Martin 
had  nine  children,  seven  of  whom  were  sons  old  enough 
to  bear  arms.  These  brave  young  men,  under  the 
tuition  and  example  of  their  parents,  had  grown  up  in 
attachment  to  their  country,  and  ardently  devoted  to 


ELIZABETH,  GRACE,  AND  RACHEL  MARTIN.     277 

its  service,  were  ready  on  every  occasion  to  encounter 
the  dangers  of  border  warfare.  When  the  first  call  for 
volunteers  sounded  through  the  land,  the  mother  en 
couraged  their  patriotic  zeal.  "  Go,  boys,"  she  said  ; 
"  fight  for  your  country  !  fight  till  death,  if  you  must,  but 
never  let  your  country  be  dishonored.  Were  I  a  man 
I  would  go  with  you." 

At  another  time,  when  Colonel  Cruger  commanded 
the  British  at  Cambridge,  and  Colonel  Browne  in 
Augusta,  several  British  officers  stopped  at  her  house 
for  refreshment ;  and  one  of  them  asked  how  many  sons 
she  had.  She  answered — eight ;  and  to  the  question, 
where  they  all  were,  replied  promptly :  "  Seven  of 
them  are  engaged  in  the  service  of  their  country." 
"Really,  madam,"  observed  the  officer,  sneeringly, 
"  you  have  enough  of  them."  "  No  sir,"  said  the  matron, 
proudly,  "I  wish  I  had  fifty." 

Her  house  in  the  absence  of  the  sons  was  frequently 
exposed  to  the  depredations  of  the  tories.  On  one 
occasion  they  cut  open  her  feather  beds,  and  scattered 
the  contents.  When  the  young  men  returned  shortly 
afterwards,  their  mother  bade  them  pursue  the  marauders. 
One  of  the  continental  soldiers  having  been  left  at  the 
house  badly  wounded,  Mrs.  Martin  kindly  attended  and 
nursed  him  till  his  recovery.  A  party  of  loyalists  who 
heard  of  his  being  there,  came  with  the  intention  of 
taking  his  life  ;  but  she  found  means  to  hide  him  from 
their  search. 

The  only  daughter  of  Mrs.  Martin,  Letitia,  married 
Captain  Edmund  Wade,  of  Virginia,  who  fell  with  his 


278  WOMEN    OP    THE    REVOLUTION. 

commander,  General  Montgomery,  at  the  siege  of 
Quebec.  At  the  time  of  the  siege  of  Charleston  by  Sir 
Henry  Clinton,  the  widow  was  residing  with  her  mother 
at  Ninety-Six.  Her  son  Washington  Wade  was  then  five 
years  old,  and  remembers  many  occurrences  connected 
with  the  war.*  The  house  was  about  one  hundred  miles 
in  a  direct  line  west  of  Charleston.  He  recollects  walking 
in  the  piazza  on  a  calm  evening,  with  his  grandmother. 
A  light  breeze  blew  from  the  east ;  and  the  sound  of 
heavy  cannon  was  distinctly  heard  in  that  direction. f 
The  sound  of  cnnnon  heard  at  that  time,  and  in  that 
part  of  the  State,  they  knew  must  come  from  the  besieg 
ed  city.  As  report  after  report  reached  their  ears,  the 
agitation  of  Mrs.  Martin  increased.  She  knew  not 
what  evils  might  be  announced ;  she  knew  not  but  the 
sound  might  be  the  knell  of  her  sons,  three  of  whom 
were  then  in  Charleston.  Their  wives  were  with  her, 
and  partook  of  the  same  heart-chilling  fears.  They 
stood  still  for  a  few  minutes,  each  wrapped  in  her  own 
painful  and  silent  reflections,  till  the  mother  at  length, 
lifting  her  hands  and  eyes  towards  heaven — exclaimed 
fervently : — "  THANK  GOD,  THEY  ARE  THE  CHILDREN  OF 
THE  REPUBLIC!" 

Of  the  seven  patriot  brothers,  six  were  spared  through 
all  the  dangers  of  partisan  warfare  in  the  region  of 
the  "  dark  and  bloody  ground."  The  eldest,  William 

*  Most  of  the  particulars  relating  to  this  family  were  furnished  by 
him  to  DR.  JOHNSON,  of  Charleston,  who  kindly  communicated  them 
to  me,  with  additional  ones  obtained  from  other  branches  of  the  family. 

f  This  statement  has  been  repeatedly  confirmed  by  others  in  the 
neighborhood. 


ELIZABETH,  GRACE,  AND  RACHEL  MARTIN.  279 

M,  Martin,  was  a  captain  of  artillery  ;  and  after  hav 
ing  served  with  distinction  in  the  sieges  of  Savannah 
and  Charleston,  was  killed  at  the  siege  of  Augusta, 
just  after  he  had  obtained  a  favorable  position  for  his 
cannon,  by  elevating  it  on  one  of  the  towers  con 
structed  by  General  Pickens.  It  is  related  that  not 
long  after  his  death,  a  British  officer  passing  to  Fort 
Ninety-Six,  then  in  possession  of  the  English,  rode  out 
of  his  way  to  gratify  his  hatred  to  the  whigs  by  carry 
ing  the  fatal  news  to  the  mother  of  this  gallant  young 
man.  He  called  at  the  house,  and  asked  Mrs.  Martin 
if  she  had  not  a  son  in  the  army  at  Augusta.  She 
replied  in  the  affirmative.  "  Then  I  saw  his  brains 
blown  out  on  the  field  of  battle,"  said  the  monster,  who 
anticipated  his  triumph  in  the  sight  of  a  parent's  agony. 
But  the  effect  of  the  startling  announcement  was  other 
than  he  expected.  Terrible  as  was  the  shock,  and 
aggravated  by  the  ruthless  cruelty  with  which  her 
bereavement  was  made  known,  no  woman's  weakness 
was  suffered  to  appear.  After  listening  to  the  dreadful 
recital,  the  only  reply  made  by  this  American  dame 
was,  "He  could  not  have  died  in  a  nobler  cause!" 
The  evident  chagrin  of  the  officer  as  he  turned  and 
rode  away,  is  still  remembered  in  the  family  tradition. 

This  eldest  son  married  Grace  Waring,  of  Dorchester, 
when  she  was  but  fourteen  years  of  age.  She  was  the 
daughter  of  Benjamin  Waring,  who  afterwards  became 
one  of  the  earliest  settlers  of  Columbia  when  established 
as  the  seat  of  government  in  the  State.  The  principles 
of  the  Revolution  had  been  taught  her  from  childhood ; 


280  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

and  her  efforts  to  promote  its  advancement  were  joined 
with  those  of  her  husband's  family.  She  was  one  of 
the  two  who  risked  their  lives  to  seize  upon  the  de 
spatches,  as  above  related.  Her  husband's  untimely 
death  left  her  with  three  young  children — two  sons  and 
a  daughter  ;  but  she  never  married  again. 

Her  companion  in  that  daring  and  successful  enter 
prise  was  the  wife  of  Barkly  Martin,  another  son.  She 
was  Rachel  Clay,  the  daughter  of  Henry  Clay,  Jun.,  of 
Mecklenburg  County,  Virginia,  and  first  cousin  to 
Henry  Clay,  of  Kentucky.  She  is  said  to  be  still  liv 
ing  in  Bedford  County,  Tennessee ;  is  about  eighty-six 
years  of  age,  and  never  had  any  children.  Her  sister 
married  Matthew,  another  of  the  brothers,  and  removed 
to  Tennessee.  Their  family  was  large  and  of  high 
respectability.  One  of  the  sons  is  the  Hon.  Barkly 
Martin,  late  member  of  Congress  from  that  State.  His 
father  lived  to  a  great  age,  and  died  in  Tennessee  in 
October,  1847,  about  seventy-six  years  after  his  first 
battle-field.  The  decendants  of  the  other  brothers  are 
numerous  and  respectable  in  the  different  southern 
States. 


A  TRIBUTE  is  due  to  the  fortitude  of  those  who  suffered 
when  the  war  swept  with  violence  over  Georgia.  After 
Colonel  Campbell  took  possession  of  Savannah  in  1778, 
the  whole  country  was  overrun  with  irregular  marau 
ders,  wilder  and  more  ruthless  than  the  Cossacks  of  the 
Don.  As  many  of  the  inhabitants  as  could  retire  from 


MRS.    SFALDING.  281 

the  storm  did  so,  awaiting  a  happier  time  to  renew  the 
struggle.  One  of  those  who  had  sought  refuge  in 
Florida,  was  Mr.  Spalding,  whose  establishments  were 
on  the  river  St.  John's.  He  had  the  whole  Indian 
trade  from  the  Altamaha  to  the  Apalachicola.  His 
property,  with  his  pursuits,  was  destroyed  by  the  war ; 
yet  his  heart  was  ever  with  his  countrymen,  and  the 
home  he  had  prepared  for  his  wife  was  the  refuge  of 
every  American  prisoner  in  Florida.  The  first  Assem 
bly  that  met  in  Savannah  re-called  him  and  restored 
his  lands;  but  could  not  give  back  his  business,  nor 
secure  the  debts  due ;  while  his  British  creditors,  with 
their  demands  for  accumulated  interest,  pressed  upon 
the  remnant  of  his  fortune.  Under  these  adverse  circum 
stances,  and  distressed  on  account  of  the  losses  of  her 
father  and  brothers,  who  had  taken  arms  in  the  Ameri 
can  cause,  Mrs.  Spalding  performed  her  arduous  du 
ties  with  a  true  woman's  fidelity  and  tenderness.  She 
followed  her  husband  with  her  child,  when  flight  be 
came  necessary  ;  and  twice  during  the  war  traversed 
the  two  hundred  miles  between  Savannah  and  St. 
John's  River  in  an  open  boat,  with  only  black  servants 
on  board,  when  the  whole  country  was  a  desert,  without 
a  house  to  shelter  her  and  her  infant  son.  The  first  of 
these  occasions  was  when  she  visited  her  father  and 
brothers  while  prisoners  in  Savannah ;  the  second, 
when  in  1782,  she  went  to  congratulate  her  brothers 
and  uncle  on  their  victory.  This  lady  was  the  daugh 
ter  of  Colonel  William  Mclntosh,  and  the  niece  of 


282  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

General  Lachlan  Mclntosh.     Major  Spalding,  of  Geor 
gia,  is  her  son. 

Mrs.  Spalding's  health  was  seriously  impaired  by  the 
anxieties  endured  during  the  struggle,  and  many  years 
afterwards  it  was  deemed  necessary  for  her  to  try  the 
climate  of  Europe.  In  January,  1800,  she,  with  her 
son  and  his  wife,  left  Savannah  in  a  British  ship  of 
twenty  guns,  with  fifty  men,  built  in  all  points  to  resem 
ble  a  sloop  of  war,  without  the  appearance  of  a  cargo. 
When  they  had  been  out  about  fifteen  days,  the  captain 
sent  one  morning  at  daylight,  to  request  the  presence 
of  two  of  his  gentlemen  passengers  on  deck.  A  large 
ship,  painted  black  and  showing  twelve  guns  on  a  side, 
was  seen  to  windward,  running  across  their  course. 
She  was  obviously  a  French  privateer.  The  Captain 
announced  that  there  was  no  hope  of  out-sailing  her, 
should  their  course  be  altered ;  nor  would  there  be  hope 
in  a  conflict,  as  those  ships  usually  carried  one  hundred 
and  fifty  men.  Yet  he  judged  that  if  no  effort  were 
made  to  shun  the  privateer,  the  appearance  of  his  ship 
might  deter  from  an  attack.  The  gentlemen  were  of 
the  same  opinion.  Mr.  Spalding,  heart-sick  at  thought 
of  the  perilous  situation  of  his  wife  and  mother,  and 
unwilling  to  trust  himself  with  an  interview  till  the 
crisis  was  over,  requested  the  captain  to  go  below  and 
make  what  preparation  he  could  for  their  security. 
After  a  few  minutes'  absence  the  captain  returned  to 
describe  a  most  touching  scene.  Mrs.  Spalding  had 
placed  her  daughter-in-law  and  the  other  inmates  of 
the  cabin  for  safety  in  the  two  state-rooms,  filling  the 


MRS.    SPALDING.  283 

berths  with  the  cots  and  bedding  from  the  outer  cabin. 
She  had  then  taken  her  own  station  beside  the  scuttle, 
which  led  from  the  outer  cabin  to  the  magazine,  with 
two  buckets  of  water.  Having  noticed  that  the  two 
cabin  boys  were  heedless,  she  had  determined  herself 
to  keep  watch  over  the  magazine.  She  did  so  till  the 
danger  was  past.  The  captain  took  in  his  light  sails, 
hoisted  his  boarding  nettings,  opened  his  ports,  and  stood 
on  upon  his  course.  The  privateer  waited  till  the  ship 
was  within  a  mile,  then  fired  a  gun  to  windward,  and 
stood  on  her  way.  This  ruse  preserved  the  ship.  The 
incident  may  serve  to  show  the  spirit  of  this  matron, 
who  also  bore  her  high  part  in  the  perils  of  the  Revo 
lution. 


XXII. 


DICEY    LANGSTON. 

THE  portion  of  South  Carolina  near  the  frontier, 
watered  by  the  Pacolet,  the  Tyger,  and  the  Ennoree, 
comprising  Spartanburg  and  Union  Districts,  witnessed 
many  deeds  of  violence  and  blood,  and  many  bold 
achievements  of  the  hardy  partisans.  It  could  also 
boast  its  full  complement  of  women  whose  aid  in  vari 
ous  ways  was  of  essential  service  to  the  patriots.  So 
prevalent  was  loyalism  in  the  darkest  of  those  days,  so 
bitter  was  the  animosity  felt  towards  the  whigs,  and  so 
eager  the  determination  to  root  them  from  the  soil,  that 
the  very  recklessness  of  hate  gave  frequent  opportu 
nities  for  the  betrayal  of  the  plans  of  their  enemies. 
Often  were  the  boastings  of  those  who  plotted  some 
midnight  surprise,  or  some  enterprise  that  promised  rare 
pillage — uttered  in  the  hearing  of  weak  and  despised 
women — unexpectedly  turned  into  wonder  at  the  secret 
agency  that  had  disconcerted  them,  or  execrations  upon 
their  own  folly.  The  tradition  of  the  country  teems 
with  accounts  of  female  enterprise  in  this  kind  of  ser 
vice,  very  few  instances  of  which  were  recorded  in  the 
military  journals. 


DICEY    LANGSTON.  285 

The  patriots  were  frequently  indebted  for  important 
information  to  one  young  girl,  fifteen  or  sixteen  years 
old  at  the  commencement  of  the  war.  This  was  Dicey, 
the  daughter  of  Solomon  Langston  of  Laurens  District. 
He  was  in  principle  a  stout  liberty  man,  but  incapa 
citated  by  age  and  infirmities  from  taking  any  active 
part  in  the  contest.  His  son  was  a  devoted  patriot, 
and  was  ever  found  in  the  field  where  his  services  were 
most  needed.  He  had  his  home  in  the  neighborhood, 
and  could  easily  receive  secret  intelligence  from  his 
sister,  who  was  always  on  the  alert.  Living  surrounded 
by  loyalists,  some  of  whom  were  her  own  relatives,  Miss 
Langston  found  it  easy  to  make  herself  acquainted  with 
their  movements  and  plans,  and  failed  not  to  avail  her 
self  of  every  opportunity  to  do  so,  and  immediately  to 
communicate  what  she  learned  to  the  whigs  on  the 
other  side  of  the  Ennoree  River.  At  length  suspicion 
of  the  active  aid  she  rendered  wras  excited  among  the 
tory  neighbors.  Mr.  Langston  was  informed  that  he 
would  be  held  responsible  thenceforward,  with  his  pro 
perty,  for  the  conduct  of  his  daughter.  The  young 
girl  was  reproved  severely,  and  commanded  to  desist 
from  her  patriotic  treachery.  For  a  time  she  obeyed 
the  parental  injunction  ;  but  having  heard  by  accident 
that  a  company  of  loyalists,  who  on  account  of  their 
ruthless  cruelty  had  been  commonly  called  the  "  Bloody 
Scout/'  intent  on  their  work  of  death,  were  about  to 
visit  the  "Elder  settlement"  where  her  brother  and 
some  friends  were  living,  she  determined  at  all  hazards 
to  warn  them  of  the  intended  expedition.  She  had 


286  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

none  in  whom  to  confide  ;  but  was  obliged  to  leave  her 
home  alone,  by  stealth,  and  at  the  dead  hour  of 
night.  Many  miles  were  to  be  traversed,  and  the  road 
lay  through  woods,  and  crossed  marshes  and  creeks, 
where  the  conveniences  of  bridges  and  foot-logs  were 
wanting.  She  Walked  rapidly  on,  heedless  of  slight 
difficulties;  but  her  heart  almost  failed  her  when  she 
came  to  the  banks  of  the  Tyger — a  deep  and  rapid 
stream,  which  there  was  no  possibility  of  crossing  ex 
cept  by  wading  through  the  ford.  This  she  knew  to  be 
deep  at  ordinary  times,  and  it  had  doubtless  been  ren 
dered  more  dangerous  by  the  rains  that  had  lately 
fallen.  But  the  thought  of  personal  danger  weighed 
not  with  her,  in  comparison  to  the  duty  she  owed  her 
friends  and  country.  Her  momentary  hesitation  was 
but  the  shrinking  of  nature  from  peril  encountered  in 
darkness  and  alone,  when  the  imagination  conjures  up 
a  thousand  appalling  ideas,  each  more  startling  than  the 
worst  reality.  Her  strong  heart  battled  against  these, 
and  she  resolved  to  accomplish  her  purpose,  or  perish 
in  the  attempt.  She  entered  the  water ;  but  when  in 
the  middle  of  the  ford,  became  bewildered,  and  knew 
not  which  direction  to  take.  The  hoarse  rush  of  the 
waters,  which  were  up  to  her  neck — the  blackness  of 
the  night — the  utter  solitude  around  her — the  uncer 
tainty  lest  the  next  step  should  ingulph  her  past  help, 
confused  her  ;  and  losing  in  a  degree  her  self-possession, 
she  wandered  for  some  time  in  the  channel  without 
knowing  whither  to  turn  her  steps.  But  the  energy  of  a 
resolute  will,  under  the  care  of  Providence,  sustained 


DICEY    LANGSTON.  287 

her.  Having  with  difficulty  reached  the  other  side,  she 
lost,  no  time  in  hastening  to  her  brother,  informed  him 
and  his  friends  of  the  preparations  made  to  surprise 
and  destroy  them,  and  urged  him  to  send  his  men  in 
stantly  in  different  directions  to  arouse  and  warn  the 
neighborhood.  The  soldiers  had  just  returned  from  a 
fatiguing  excursion,  and  complained  that  they  were 
faint  from  want  of  food.  The  noble  girl,  not  satisfied 
with  what  she  had  done  at  such  risk  to  herself,  was 
ready  to  help  them  still  further  by  providing  refresh 
ment  immediately.  Though  wearied,  wet,  and  shiver 
ing  with  cold,  she  at  once  set  about  her  preparations. 
A  few  boards  \vere  taken  from  the  roof  of  the  house, 
a  fire  was  kindled  with  them,  and  in  a  few  minutes  a 
hoe-cake,  partly  baked,  was  broken  into  pieces,  and 
thrust  into  the  shot  pouches  of  the  men.  Thus  pro 
visioned,  the  little  company  hastened  to  give  the  alarm 
to  their  neighbors,  and  did  so  in  time  for  all  to  make 
their  escape.  The  next  day,  when  the  "scout"  visited 
the  place,  they  found  no  living  enemy  on  whom  to 
wreak  their  vengeance. 

At  a  later  period  of  the  war,  the  father  of  Miss 
Langston  incurred  the  displeasure  of  the  loyalists  in 
consequence  of  the  active  services  of  his  sons  in  their 
country's  cause.  They  were  known  to  have  imbibed 
their  principles  from  him  ;  and  he  was  marked  out  as 
an  object  of  summary  vengeance.  A  party  came  to 
his  house  with  the  desperate  design  of  putting  to  death 
ail  the  men  of  the  family.  The  sons  were  absent ;  but 
the  feeble  old  man,  selected  by  their  relentless  hate  as  a 


288  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

victim,  was  in  their  power.  He  could  not  escape  or 
resist ;  and  he  scorned  to  implore  their  mercy.  One  of 
the  company  drew  a  pistol,  and  deliberately  levelled  it 
at  the  breast  of  Lansgton.  Suddenly  a  wild  shriek  was 
heard  ;  and  his  young  daughter  sprang  between  her 
aged  parent  arid  the  fatal  weapon.  The  brutal  soldier 
roughly  ordered  her  to  get  out  of  the  way,  or  the  cgh- 
tents  of  the  pistol  would  be  instantly  lodged  in  her  own 
heart.  She  heeded  not  the  threat,  which  was  but  too 
likely  to  be  fulfilled  the  next  moment.  Clasping  her 
arms  tightly  round  the  old  man's  neck,  she  declared 
that  her  own  body  should  first  receive  the  ball  aimed  at 
his  heart !  There  are  few  human  beings,  even  of  the 
most  depraved,  entirely  insensible  to  all  noble  and  gen 
erous  impulses.  On  this  occasion  the  conduct  of  the 
daughter,  so  fearless,  so  determined  to  shield  her  father's 
life  by  the  sacrifice  of  her  own,  touched  the  heart  even 
of  a  member  of  the  "  Bloody  Scout."  Langston  was 
spared;  and  the  party  left  the  house  filled  with  admiration 
at  the  filial  affection  and  devotion  they  had  witnessed. 

At  another  time  the  heroic  maiden  showed  herself  as 
ready  to  prevent  wrong  to  an  enemy  as  to  her  friends. 
Her  father's  house  was  visited  by  a  company  of  whigs, 
who  stopped  to  get  some  refreshment,  and  to  feed  their 
wearied  horses.  In  the  course  of  conversation  one  of 
them  mentioned  that  they  were  going  to  visit  a  tory 
neighbor,  for  the  purpose  of  seizing  his  horses.  The 
man  whose  possessions  were  thus  to  be  appropriated 
had  been  in  general  a  peaceable  citizen;  and  Mr. 
Langston  determined  to  inform  him  of  the  danger  in 


DICEY    LANGSTON.  289 

which  his  horses  stood  of  having  their  ownership 
changed.  Entering  cordially  into  her  father's  design, 
Miss  Langston  set  off  immediately  to  carry  the  infor 
mation.  She  gave  it  in  the  best  faith  ;  but  just  before 
she  started  on  her  return  home,  she  discovered  that  the 
neighbor  whom  she  had  warned  was  not  only  taking 
precautions  to  save  his  property,  but  was  about  to  send 
for  the  captain  of  a  tory  band  not  far  distant,  so  that 
the  "  liberty  men"  might  be  captured  when  intent  on 
their  expedition,  before  they  should  be  aware  of  their 
danger.  It  was  now  the  generous  girl's  duty  to  per 
form  a  like  friendly  act  towards  the  whigs.  She  lost 
no  time  in  conveying  the  intelligence,  and  thus  saved 
an  enemy's  property,  and  the  lives  of  her  friends. 

Her  disregard  of  personal  danger,  where  service 
could  be  rendered,  \vas  remarkable.  One  day,  return 
ing  from  a  whig  neighborhood  in  Spartanburg  District, 
she  was  met  by  a  company  of  loyalists,  who  ordered 
her  to  give  them  some  intelligence  they  desired  respect 
ing  those  she  had  just  left.  She  refused ;  whereupon 
the  captain  of  the  band  held  a  pistol  to  her  breast,  and 
ordered  her  instantly  to  make  the  disclosures,  or  she 
should  "die  in  her  tracks/'  Miss  Langston  only  replied, 
with  the  cool  intrepidity  of  a  veteran  soldier :  "  Shoot 
me  if  you  dare !  I  will  not  tell  you,"  at  the  same  time 
opening  a  long  handkerchief  which  covered  her  neck 
and  bosom,  as  if  offering  a  place  to  receive  the  contents 
of  the  weapon.  Incensed  by  her  defiance,  the  officer 
was  about  to  fire,  when  another  threw  up  his  hand,  and 

saved  the  courageous  girl's  life. 
13 


290  ^VOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

On  one  occasion,  when  her  father's  house  was  visited 
on  a  plundering  expedition  by  the  noted  tory  Captain 
Gray  with  his  riflemen,  and  they  had  collected  and 
divided  every  thing  they  thought  could  be  of  use,  they 
were  at  some  loss  what  to  do  with  a  large  pewter  basin. 
At  length  the  captain  determined  on  taking  that  also, 
jeeringly  remarking,  "  it  will  do  to  run  into  bullets  to 
kill  the  rebels."  "  Pewter  bullets,  sir,"  answered  Miss 
Langston,  "  will  not  kill  a  whig."  "  Why  not  ?"  inquired 
Captain  Gray.  "It  is  said,  sir,"  replied  she,  "that  a 
witch  can  be  shot  only  with  a  silver  bullet ;  and  I  am 
sure  the  whigs  are  more  under  the  protection  of  Provi 
dence."  At  another  time  when  a  company  of  the 
enemy  came  to  the  house  they  found  the  door  secured. 
To  their  demand  for  admission  and  threats  cf  breaking 
down  the  door,  Miss  Langston  answered  by  sternly 
bidding  them  begone.  Her  resolute  language  induced 
the  company  to  "hold  a  parley;"  and  the  result  was, 
that  they  departed  without  further  attempt  to  obtain  an 
entrance. 

One  more  anecdote  is  given  to  illustrate  her  spirit 
and  fearlessness.  Her  brother  James  had  left  a  rifle  in 
her  care,  which  she  was  to  keep  hid  till  he  sent  for  it. 
He  did  so,  by  a  company  of  "liberty  men,"  who  were 
to  return  by  his  father's  dwelling.  On  arriving  at  the 
house,  one  of  them  asked  the  young  girl  for  the  gun. 
She  went  immediately,  and  brought  it;  but  as  she  came 
towards  the  soldiers,  the  thought  struck  her  that  she 
had  neglected  to  ask  for  the  countersign  agreed  upon 
between  her  brother  and  herself.  Advancing  more 


MRS.  DILLARD.  291 

cautiously — she  observed  to  them  that  their  looks  were 
suspicious ;  that  for  aught  she  knew  they  might  be  a 
set  of  tories ;  and  demanded  the  countersign.  One  of 
the  company  answered  that  it  was  too  late  to  make 
conditions;  the  gun  was  in  their  possession,  and  its 
holder,  too.  "  Do  you  think  so,"  cried  she,  cocking  it, 
and  presenting  the  muzzle  at  the  speaker.  "  If  the  gun 
is  in  your  possession,  take  charge  of  her!"  Her  look 
and  attitude  of  defiance  showed  her  in  earnest;  the 
countersign  was  quickly  given  ;  and  the  men,  laughing 
heartily,  pronounced  her  worthy  of  being  the  sister  of 
James  Langston. 

After  the  war  was  ended,  Miss  Langston  married 
Thomas  Springfield,  of  Greenville,  South  Carolina. 
She  died  in  Greenville  District,  a  few  years  since.  Of 
her  numerous  descendants  then  living,  thirty-two  were 
sons  and  grandsons  capable  of  bearing  arms,  and 
ready  at  any  time  to  do  so  in  the  maintenance  of  that 
liberty  which  was  so  dear  to  the  youthful  heart  of  their 
ancestor.* 


THE  recollection  of  the  courage  and  patriotism  of 
Mrs.  Dillard  is  associated  with  the  details  of  a  battle 
of  considerable  importance,  which  took  place  in  Spar- 
tanburg  District,  at  the  Green  Spring,  near  Berwick's 
iron  works.  The  Americans  here  gained  great  honor. 

*  The  preceding  anecdotes  were  furnished  by  Hon.  B.  F.  Perry,  of 
Greenville,  South  Carolina,  who  received  them  from  one  of  Mrs. 
Springfield's  family. 


292  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

Colonel  Clarke,  of  the  Georgia  volunteers,  joined  with 
Captains  McCall,  Liddle,  and  Hammond,  in  all  about 
one  hundred  and  ninety-eight  men — having  received 
intelligence  that  a  body  of  tory  militia,  stated  to  be  from 
two  to  five  hundred,  commanded  by  Colonel  Ferguson, 
were  recruiting  for  the  horse  service — determined  to 
attempt  to  rout  them.*'  They  marched  accordingly ; 
and  hearing  that  a  scouting  party  was  in  advance  of 
Ferguson's  station,  prepared  to  give  them  battle. 
Colonel  Clarke,  with  his  forces,  encamped  for  the  night 
at  Green  Spring. 

On  that  day  the  Americans  had  stopped  for  refresh 
ment  at  the  house  of  Captain  Dillard,  who  was  with 
their  party  as  a  volunteer.  They  had  been  entertained 
by  his  wife  with  milk  and  potatoes — the  simple  fare  which 
those  hardy  soldiers  often  found  it  difficult  to  obtain. 
The  same  evening  Ferguson  and  Dunlap,  with  a  party 
of  lories,  arrived  al  ihe  house.  They  inquired  of  Mrs. 
Dillard  whether  Clarke  and  his  men  had  not  been  there ; 
what  time  they  had  departed  ;  and  what  were  their 
numbers  ?  She  answered  that  they  had  been  at  the 
house  ;  that  she  could  not  guess  their  numbers  ;  and 
that  they  had  been  gone  a  long  time.  The  officers 
then  ordered  her  to  prepare  supper  for  them  with  all 
possible  despatch.  They  took  possession  of  the  house, 
and  took  some  bacon  to  be  given  to  their  men.  Mrs. 
Dillard  set  about  the  preparations  for  supper.  In 
going  backwards  and  forwards  from  the  kitchen,  she 
overheard  much  of  their  conversation.  It  will  be  re- 
*  Mills'  Statistics  of  South  Carolina,  p.  738. 


MRS.    DILLARD.  293 

membered  that  the  kitchens  at  the  South  are  usually 
separate  from  the  dwelling-houses.  The  doors  and 
windows  of  houses  in  the  country  being  often  slightly 
constructed,  it  is  also  likely  that  the  loose  partitions 
afforded  facilities  for  hearing  what  might  be  said  within. 
Besides,  the  officers  probably  apprehended  no  danger 
from  disclosing  their  plans  in  the  presence  of  a  lonely 
woman. 

She  ascertained  that  they  had  determined  to  surprise 
Clarke  and  his  party ;  and  were  to  pursue  him  as  soon 
as  they  had  taken  their  meal.  She  also  heard  one  of 
the  officers  tell  Ferguson  he  had  just  received  the  infor 
mation  that  the  rebels,  with  Clarke,  were  to  encamp 
that  night, at  the  Great  Spring.  It  was  at  once  resolved 
to  surprise  and  attack  them  before  day.  The  feelings 
may  be  imagined  with  which  Mrs.  Dillard  heard  this 
resolution  announced.  She  hurried  the  supper,  and  as 
soon  as  it  was  placed  upon  the  table,  and  the  officers 
had  sat  down,  slipped  out  by  a  back  way.  Late  and 
dark  as  it  was,  her  determination  was  to  go  herself  and 
apprize  Clarke  of  his  danger,  in  the  hope  of  being  in 
time  for  him  to  make  a  safe  retreat ;  for  she  believed 
that  the  enemy  were  too  numerous  to  justify  a  battle. 

She  wrent  to  the  stable,  bridled  a  young  horse,  and 
without  saddle,  mounted  and  rode  with  all  possible 
speed  to  the  place  described.  It  was  about  half  an  hour 
before  day  when  she  came  in  full  gallop  to  one  of  the 
videttes,  by  whom  she  was  immediately  conducted  to 
Colonel  Clarke.  She  called  to  the  colonel,  breathless 
with  eagerness  and  haste,  "  Be  in  readiness  either  to 


294  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

fight  or  run  ;  the  enemy  will  be  upon  you  immediately, 
and  they  are  strong  !" 

In  an  instant  every  man  was  up,  and  no  moments 
were  lost  in  preparing  for  action.  The  intelligence 
came  just  in  time  to  put  the  whigs  in  readiness.  Fer 
guson  had  detached  Dunlap  with  two  hundred  picked 
mounted  men,  to  engage  Clarke  and  keep  him  employed 
till  his  arrival.  These  rushed  in  full  charge  into  the 
American  camp ;  but  the  surprise  was  on  their  part. 
They  were  met  hand  to  hand,  with  a  firmness  they  had 
not  anticipated.  Their  confusion  was  increased  by  the 
darkness,  which  rendered  it  hard  to  distinguish  friend 
from  foe.  The  battle  was  warm  for  fifteen  or  twenty 
minutes,  when  the  tories  gave  way.  They  vwere  pur 
sued  nearly  a  mile,  but  not  overtaken.  Ferguson  came 
"  too  late  for  the  frolic  ;"  the  business  being  ended. 
Clarke  and  his  little  band  then  returned  to  North  Caro 
lina  for  rest  and  refreshment ;  for  the  whole  of  this 
enterprise  was  performed  without  one  regular  meal,  and 
without  regular  food  for  their  horses. 


MRS.  ANGELICA  NOTT,  widow  of  the  late  Judge  Nott, 
of  South  Corolina,  remembers  some  illustrative  incidents 
which  occurred  in  the  section  where  she  resided  with 
her  aunt,  Mrs.  Potter,  near  the  Grindal  Shoal,  a  little 
south  of  Pacolet  River.  The  whig  population  in  this 
portion  of  the  State.,  were  exposed  during  part  of  1780 
and  1781  to  incredible  hardships.  The  breezes  of 
fortune  which  had  fanned  into  life  the  expiring  embers 


MRS.    POTTER    AND    MRS.    BECKHAM.  295 

of  opposition  to  English  tyranny,  had  been  so  variable 
that  the  wavering  hopes  of  the  people  were  often  tremb 
ling  on  the  verge  of  extinction.  The  reverses  of  the 
British  arms  had  exasperated  the  loyalists,  and  embitter 
ed  the  enmity  felt  towards  the  stubborn  people  who 
refused  to  be  conquered.  Such  was  the  state  of  feeling 
when  the  destiny  of  the  South  was  committed  to  the 
hands  of  a  soldier  of  consummate  genius,  in  whom  the 
trust  of  all  was  implicitly  placed. 

When  Tarleton  was  on  his  march  against  Morgan, 
just  before  their  encounter  at  the  Cowpens,  a  party  of 
loyalists  came  to  the  place  where  Mrs.  Potter  lived, 
and  committed  some  depredations.  They  burned  the 
straw  covering  from  a  rude  hut,  in  which  the  family 
lodged,  while  a  relative  ill  of  the  small-pox  occupied 
the  house.  Mrs.  Potter  and  her  children  had  built 
this  lodge  of  rails,  for  their  temporary  accommodation. 
The  soldiers  attempted  to  take  off  her  wedding-ring, 
which,  as  it  had  been  worn  for  years,  became  imbedded 
under  the  skin,  in  the  effort  to  force  it  from  her 
finger.  They  swore  it  should  be  cut  off,  but  finally 
desisted  from  the  attempt.  On  the  same  march,  Tarle 
ton  encamped  at  the  house  of  John  Beckham,  whose 
wife  was  the  sister  of  Colonel  Henderson  of  the  conti 
nental  army.  Mrs.  Beckham  saw  for  the  first  time 
this  renowned  officer  while  standing  in  her  yard,  and 
ordering  his  men  to  catch  her  poultry  for  supper.  She 
spoke  civilly  to  him,  and  hastened  to  prepare  supper  for 
him  and  his  suite,  as  if  they  had  been  honored  guests. 
When  about  to  leave  in  the  morning,  he  ordered  the 


296  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

house  to  be  burnt,  after  being  given  up  to  pillage; 
but  on  her  remonstrance,  recalled  the  order.  All  her 
bedding  was  taken,  except  one  quilt,  which  soon  shared 
the  same  fate.  At  another  time  Mrs.  Beckham  went  to 
Granby,  eighty  miles  distant,  for  a  bushel  of  salt,  which 
she  brought  home  on  the  saddle  under  her.  The  guinea 
appropriated  for  the  purchase,  was  concealed  in  the 
hair  braided  on  the  top  of  her  head. 

Mrs.  Potter  was  visited  by  the  famous  tory,  Colonel 
Cunningham,  commonly  called  "  Bloody  Bill  Cunning 
ham,"  on  one  occasion,  with  a  party  of  two  hundred 
and  fifty  men.  They  arrived  after  dark ;  and  as  green 
corn  happened  to  be  in  season,  encamped  by  one 
of  her  fields,  fed  their  horses  with  the  corn,  built 
fires  with  the  rails,  and  roasted  the  ears  for  themselves. 
At  that  time,  the  family  lived  chiefly  on  roasted  corn, 
without  bread,  meat,  or  salt.  Hickory  ashes  were  used, 
with  a  small  quantity  of  salt,  for  preserving  beef  when 
it  could  be  had.  Leather  shoes  were  replaced  by 
woolen  rags  sewed  round  the  feet;  and  of  beds  or 
bedding  none  were  left.  The  beds  were  generally  ripped 
open  by  the  depredators,  the  feathers  scattered,  and  the 
ticking  used  for  tent-cloths.  The  looms  were  robbed 
of  cloth  found  in  them  ;  and  hence  the  women  of  the 
country  resorted  to  various  expedients  to  manufacture 
clothing,  and  preserve  it  for  their  own  use  and  that  of 
their  friends.  A  family  residing  on  the  Pacolet,  built  a 
loom  between  four  trees  in  the  forest,  and  wove  in  fair 
weather,  covering  the  loom  and  web  with  cow-hides 
when  it  rained. 


XXIII. 


ELIZABETH     STEELE. 

THE  long,  arduous,  and  eventful  retreat  of  General 
Greene  through  the  Carolinas,  after  the  battle  of  the 
Cowpens,  that  retreat  on  whose  issue  hung  the  fate  of 
the  South — with  the  eager  pursuit  ofCornwallis,  who  well 
knew  that  the  destruction  of  that  army  would  secure 
his  conquests — is  a  twice-told  tale  to  every  reader. 
The  line  of  march  lay  through  Salisbury,  North  Caro 
lina;  and  while  the  British  commander  was  crossing 
the  Catawba,  Greene  was  approaching  this  village. 
With  the  American  army  were  conveyed  the  prisoners 
taken  by  Morgan  in  the  late  bloody  and  brilliant  action, 
the  intention  being  to  convey  them  to  Virginia.  Several 
of  these  were  sick  and  wounded,  and  among  them  were 
some  British  officers,  unable,  from  loss  of  strength,  to 
proceed  further  on  the  route. 

General  Greene,  aware  of  the  objects  of  Cornwallis, 
knew  his  design,  by  a  hurried  march  to  the  ford,  to  cross 
the  Catawba  before  opposition  could  be  ma,de ;  and 
had  stationed  a  body  of  militia  there  to  dispute  the 
passage.  Most  anxiously  did  the  General  await  their 
arrival,  before  he  pursued  his  route.  The  day  gradually 
13* 


298  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

wore  away,  and  still  no  signs  appeared  of  the  militia ; 
and  it  was  not  till  after  midnight  that  the  news  reached 
him  of  their  defeat  and  dispersion  by  the  British  troops, 
and  the  death  of  General  Davidson,  who  had  com 
manded  them.  His  aids  having  been  despatched  to 
different  parts  of  the  retreating  army,  he  rode  on 
with  a  heavy  heart  to  Salisbury.  It  had  been  raining 
during  the  day,  and  his  soaked  and  soiled  garments  and 
appearance  of  exhaustion  as  he  wearily  dismounted 
from  his  jaded  horse  at  the  door  of  the  principal  hotel, 
showed  that  he  had  suffered  much  from  exposure  to  the 
storm,  sleepless  fatigue,  and  harassing  anxiety  of  mind. 
Dr.  Reed,*  who  had  charge  of  the  sick  and  wounded 
prisoners,  while  he  waited  for  the  General's  arrival  was 
engaged  in  writing  the  paroles  with  which  it  wras  neces 
sary  to  furnish  such  officers  as  could  not  go  on.  From 
his  apartment  overlooking  the  main  street,  he  saw  his 
friend,  unaccompanied  by  his  aids,  ride  up  and  alight ; 
and  hastened  to  receive  him  as  he  entered  the  house. 
Seeing  him  without  a  companion,  and  startled  by  his 
dispirited  looks — the  doctor  could  not  refrain  from 
noticing  them  with  anxious  inquiries  ;  to  which  the 
wearied  soldier  replied :  "  Yes — fatigued — hungry — alone, 
and  penniless  !" 

The  melancholy  reply  was  heard  by  one  determined 
to  prove,  by  the  generous  assistance  proffered  in  a  time 
of  need,  that  no  reverse  could  dim  the  pure  flame  of 
disinterested  patriotism.  General  Greene  had  hardly 
taken  his  seat  at  the  well-spread  table,  when  Mrs.  Steele, 
the  landlady  of  the  hotel,  entered  the  room,  and  care- 


ELIZABETH    STEELE.  299 

fully  closed  the  door  behind  her.  Approaching  her  dis 
tinguished  guest,  she  reminded  him  of  the  despondent 
words  he  had  uttered  in  her  hearing,  implying,  as  she 
thought,  a  distrust  of  the  devotion  of  his  friends, 
through  every  calamity,  to  the  cause.  Money,  too, 
she  declared  he  should  have  ;  and  drew  from  under 
her  apron  two  small  bags  full  of  specie,  probably  the 
earnings  of  years.  "  Take  these,"  said  she,  "  for  you 
will  want  them,  and  I  can  do  without  them/' 

Words  of  kindness  and  encouragement  accompanied 
this  offering  of  a  benevolent  heart,  which  General 
Greene  accepted  with  thankfulness,  "  Never,"  says 
his  biographer,  "  did  relief  come  at  a  more  propitious 
moment ;  nor  would  it  be  straining  conjecture  to  sup- 
pose  that  he  resumed  his  journey  with  his  spirits  cheered 
and  lightened  by  this  touching  proof  of  woman's  devo 
tion  to  the  cause  of  her  country."* 

General  Greene  did  not  remain  long  in  Salisbury ; 
but  before  his  departure  from  the  house  of  Mrs.  Steele, 
he  left  a  memorial  of  his  visit.  He  took  from  the  wall 
of  one  of  the  apartments  a  portrait  of  George  III., 
which  had  come  from  England  as  a  present  from  a  person 
at  court  to  one  of  Mrs.  Steele's  connections  attached  to 
an  embassy,  wrote  with  chalk  on  the  back,  "  O,  George, 
hide  thy  face  and  mourn  ;"  and  replaced  it  with  the  face 
to  the  wall,  The  picture,  with  the  writing  unefFaced, 
is  still  in  possession  of  a  granddaughter  of  Mrs.  Steele, 
a  daughter  of  Dr.  McCorkle,  and  may  be  seen  in  Char 
lotte. 

*  Greene's  Life  of  Nathanael  Greene.     See  also  Foote's  Sketches 

North  Carolina,  p.  355. 


300  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

Elizabeth  Steele  was  distinguished  not  only  for  her 
attachment  to  the  American  cause  during  the  war,  but 
for  the  piety  that  shone  brightly  in  her  useful  life. 
Among  her  papers  was  found  after  her  death  a  written 
dedication  of  herself  to  her  Creator,  and  a  prayer  for 
support  in  the  practice  of  Christian  duty ;  with  a  letter, 
left  as  a  legacy  to  her  children,  enjoining  it  upon  them 
to  make  religion  the  great  work  of  life.  She  was  a 
tender  mother,  and  beloved  for  her  constant  exercise  of 
the  virtues  of  kindness  and  chanty.  She  was  twice 
married,  and  died  in  Salisbury,  in  1791.  Her  son,  the 
Hon.  John  Steele,  conspicuous  in  the  councils  of  the 
State  and  Nation,  was  one  whose  public  services  offer 
materials  for  an  interesting  biography.  A  collection  of 
his  correspondence  has  lately  been  added  to  the  trea 
sures  of  the  Historical  Society  of  the  University  of 
North  Carolina;  and  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  under  its 
auspices,  justice  will  be  done  to  his  memory  at  no  dis 
tant  period.  Margaret,  Mrs.  Steele's  daughter,  was  the 
wife  of  the  Rev.  Samuel  E.  McCorkle. 


It  was  in  the  same  pursuit  of  Greene  and  Morgan 
by  Cornwallis.  that  the  British  destroyed  the  property 
of  the  Widow  Brevard,  in  Centre  congregation.  "  She 
has  seven  sons  in  the  rebel  army,"  was  the  reason 
given  by  the  officer  for  permitting  her  house  to  be 
burned  and  her  farm  plundered.  One  of  her  sons, 
Captain  Alexander  Brevard,  took  part  in  nine  battles  ; 
and  the  youngest  was  at  seventeen  first  lieutenant  of  a 


MRS.    BREVARD.  301 

company  of  horse.  Ephraim  Brevard,  another  son, 
having  graduated  at  Princeton  College,  and  completed 
a  course  of  medical  studies,  fixed  his  residence  at 
Charlotte.  Mr.  Foote  says,  "His  talents,  patriotism, 
and  education,  united  with  his  prudence  and  practical 
sense,  marked  him  as  a  leader  in  the  councils  that  pre 
ceded  the  convention  held  in  Queen's  Museum ;  and 
on  the  day  of  meeting  designated  him  as  secretary  and 
draughtsman  of  that  singular  and  unrivalled  DECLARA 
TION,  which  alone  is  a  passport  to  the  memory  of  pos 
terity  through  all  time." 

It  will  be  borne  in  mind  that  it  was  in  Charlotte,  the 
county  town  of  Mecklenburg  County,  that  the  bold  idea 
of  National  Independence  was  first  proclaimed  to  the 
world.  On  the  19th  May,  1775,  an  immense  concourse 
of  people  was  assembled  in  this  frontier  settlement — all 
agitated  with  the  excitement  which  had  plunged  the 
whole  land  into  commotion ;  on  that  day  came  the  first 
intelligence  of  the  commencement  of  hostilities  at  Lex 
ington  ;  and  when  the  convention  and  the  people  were 
addressed,  the  universal  cry  was,  "  Let  us  be  indepen 
dent  !  Let  us  declare  our  independence,  and  defend  it 
with  our  lives  and  fortunes !"  The  resolutions  drawn 
up  by  Dr.  Brevard  were  discussed ;  and  by  their  unani 
mous  adoption,  the  day  following,  by  the  convention 
and  the  approving  multitude,  the  citizens  of  Mecklen 
burg  County  declared  themselves  a  free  and  indepen 
dent  people.  Due  honor  is  awarded  to  him  who  took 
so  active  a  part  in  that  memorable  transaction  ;  but 
where  is  the  tribute  that  should  be  paid  to  the  widowed 


302  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

mother  who  sowed  the  seeds  which  on  that  day  yielded 
fruit — who  implanted  in  her  son's  mind  those  sterling 
principles,  the  guidance  of  which  rendered  his  life  one 
of  eminent  usefulness  ? 

When  the  southern  States  became  the  arena  of  war, 
Dr.  Brevard  entered  the  army  as  surgeon,  and  was 
taken  prisoner  at  the  surrender  of  Charleston.  In  that 
city  he  was  seized  with  a  fatal  disease,  to  which  he  fell 
a  victim  after  being  set  at  liberty,  and  permitted  to 
place  himself  under  the  care  of  friends. 

The  deplorable  sufferings  of  the  unfortunate  prison 
ers  in  Charleston,  moved  the  sympathy  of  the  inhabi 
tants  of  Western  Carolina  ;  for  news  came  that  many 
were  perishing  in  captivity  of  want  and  disease.  The 
men  could  not  go  thither  to  visit  their  friends  and  rela 
tives,  without  insuring  their  own  destruction  ;  but  the 
women  gathered  clothing,  medicines,  and  provisions, 
and  travelled  long  journeys,  encountering  danger  as  well 
as  hardship,  to  minister  in  person  to  those  who  so  sorely 
needed  their  succor.  Much  relief  was  brought  to  the 
sufferers  by  these  visits  of  mercy;  although  the  lives 
preserved  were  sometimes  saved  at  the  sacrifice  of  the 
noble  benefactors.  The  mother  of  Andrew  Jac'kson, 
returning  to  the  Waxhaw,  after  a  journey  to  Charleston — ' 
to  carry  clothing  and  other  necessaries  to  some  friends 
on  board  the  prison  ship,  was  seized  with  the  prison- 
fever,  and  died  in  a  tent,  in  the  midst  of  the  wide,  sandy 
wilderness  of  pines.  Her  lonely  grave  by  the  road 
side,  were  the  spot  known,  would  speak  mournfully  of 
woman's  self-immolating  heroism.  Mrs.  Jackson,  with 


MRS.    JACKSON.  303 

her  children,  had  quitted  their  home  on  the  Waxhaw, 
where  she  had  buried  her  husband,  after  the  rout 
and  slaughter  of  Buford's  regiment  by  the  forces  of 
Tarleton,  when  the  women  and  children  fled  from 
the  ravages  of  the  merciless  enemy.  They  had  found 
a  place  of  refuge  in  Sugar  Creek  congregation,  where 
they  remained  during  part  of  the  summer.  Part  of  the 
the  foundations  of  the  log  meeting-house  where  the 
congregation  met  for  worship  may  still  be  seen. 

Other  widowed  mothers  were  there  in  North  Caro 
lina,  who  trained  their  sons  to  become  zealous  patriots 
and  efficent  statesmen.  The  names  of  Mrs.  Flinn, 
Mrs.  Sharpe,  Mrs.  Graham,  and  Mrs.  Hunter,  are 
worthy  of  remembrance.  The  great  principles  pro 
claimed  at  the  Mecklenburg  Convention,  were  acted 
out  in  the  noblest  efforts  of  patriotism  by  their  sons. 

Mr.  Caruthers,  the  biographer  of  the  Rev.  David  Cald- 
well,  states,  that  while  all  the  active  men  in  his  congre 
gations  were  engaged  with  the  army  at  the  battle  of  Guil- 
ford  Court-house,  there  were  two  collections  of  females, 
one  in  Buffalo,  and  the  other  in  Alamance,  engaged  in 
earnest  prayer  for  their  families  and  their  country ;  and 
that  many  others  sought  the  divine  aid  in  solitary  places. 
One  pious  woman  sent  her  son  frequently  during  the 
afternoon,  to  the  summit  of  a  little  hill  near  which  she 
spent  much  time  in  prayer,  to  listen  and  bring  her  word 
which  way  the  firing  came — from  the  southward  or  the 
northward.  When  he  returned  and  said  it  was  going 
northward,  "  Then/'  exclaimed  she,  "all  is  lost!  Greene 
is  defeated."  But  all  was  not  lost ;  the  God  who  hears 
prayer  remembered  his  people. 


XXIV. 


MARY    SLOCUMB. 

THE  first  expedition  into  North  Carolina  projected 
by  Lord  Cornwallis,  was  baffled  by  the  fall  of  Colonel 
Ferguson  at  King's  Mountain.  The  disaster  at  the 
Cowpens  forbade  perseverance  in  the  second  attempt, 
and  was  followed  by  the  memorable  retreat  of  Greene. 
The  battle  of  Guilford  took  place  in  March,  1781  ;  and 
towards  the  end  of  April,  while  Lord  Rawdon  en 
countered  Greene  at  Hobkirk's  Hill,  Cornwallis  set  out 
on  his  march  from  Wilmington,  bent  on  his  avowed 
purpose  of  achieving  the  conquest  of  Virginia.  On  his 
march  towards  Halifax,  he  encamped  for  several  days 
on  the  river  Neuse,  in  what  is  now  called  Wayne 
County,  North  Carolina.  His  head-quarters  were  at 
Springbank,  while  Colonel  Tarleton,  with  his  renowned 
legion,  encamped  on  the  plantation  of  Lieutenant 
Slocumb.  This  consisted  of  level  and  extensive  fields, 
which  at  that  season  presented  a  most  inviting  view  of 
fresh  verdure  from  the  mansion-house.  Lord  Corn 
wallis  himself  gave  it  the  name  of  "  Pleasant  Green," 
which  it  ever  afterwards  retained.  The  owner  of  this 
fine  estate  held  a  subaltern's  commission  in  the  State 


MARY    SLOCUMB.  305 

line  under  Colonel  Washington,  and  was  in  command 
of  a  troop  of  light  horse,  raised  in  his  own  neighbor 
hood,  whose  general  duty  it  was  to  act  as  Rangers, 
scouring  the  country  for  many  miles  around,  watching 
the  movements  of  the  enemy,  and  punishing  the  loyal 
ists  when  detected  in  their  vocation  of  pillage  and  mur 
der.  These  excursions  had  been  frequent  for  two  or 
three  years,  and  were  often  of  several  weeks'  duration. 
At  the  present  time  Slocumb  had  returned  to  the  vicin 
ity,  and  had  been  sent  with  twelve  or  fifteen  recruits  to 
act  as  scouts  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  British  Gen- 

o 

eral.  The  morning  of  the  day  on  which  Tarleton  took 
possession  of  his  plantation,  he  wras  near  Springbank, 
and  reconnoitered  the  encampment  of  Cornwallis, 
which  he  supposed  to  be  his  whole  force.  He  then, 
with  his  party,  pursued  his  way  slowly  along  the  south 
bank  of  the  Neuse,  in  the  direction  of  his  own  house, 
little  dreaming  that  his  beautiful  and  peaceful  home, 
where,  some  time  before,  he  had  left  his  wife  and  child, 
was  then  in  the  possession  of  the  terrible  Tarleton. 

During  these  frequent  excursions  of  the  Rangers, 
and  the  necessary  absence  of  her  husband,  the  superin 
tendence  of  the  plantation  had  always  devolved  upon 
Mrs.  Slocumb.  She  depended  for  protection  upon  her 
slaves,  whose  fidelity  she  had  proved,  and  upon  her 
own  fearless  and  intrepid  spirit.  The  scene  of  the 
occupation  of  her  house,  and  Tarleton's  residence  with 
her,  remained  through  life  indelibly  impressed  on  her 
memory,  and  were  described  by  her  to  one  who  en 
joyed  the  honor  of  her  intimate  friendship.  I  am  per- 


306  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

mitted  to  give  his  account,  copied  almost  verbatim  from 
notes  taken  at  the  time  the  occurrences  were  related  by 
Mrs.  Slocumb. 

It  was  about  ten  o'clock  on  a  beautiful  spring  morn 
ing,  that  a  splendidly-dressed  officer,  accompanied  by 
two  aids,  and  followed  at  a  short  distance  by  a  guard 
of  some  twenty  troopers,  dashed  up  to  the  piazza  in 
front  of  the  ancient-looking  mansion.  Mrs.  Slocumb 
was  sitting  there,  with  her  child  and  a  near  relative 
young  lady,  who  afterwards  became  the  wife  of  Major 
Williams.  A  few  house  servants  were  also  on  the 
piazza. 

The  officer  raised  his  cap,  and  bowing  to  his  horse's 
neck,  addressed  the  lady,  with  the  question — 

"  Have  I  the  pleasure  of  seeing .  the  mistress  of  this 
house  and  plantation !" 

"  It  belongs  to  my  husband." 

"Is  he  at  home?"  "He  is  not."  "Is  he  a  rebel?" 
"No  sir.  He  is  in  the  army  of  his  country,  and 
fighting  against  our  invaders  ;  therefore  not  a  rebel." 
It  is  not  a  little  singular,  that  although  the  people  of  that 
day  gloried  in  their  rebellion,  they  always  took  offence 
at  being  called  rebels. 

"I  fear,  madam,"  said  the  officer,  "we  differ  in  opinion." 
A  friend  to  his  country  will  be  the  friend  of  the  king, 
our  master." 

"  Slaves  only  acknowledge  a  master  in  this  country," 
replied  the  lady. 

A  deep  flush  crossed  the  florid  cheeks  of  Tarleton, 
for  he  was  the  speaker ;  and  turning  to  one  of  his  aids, 


MARY    SLOCUMB.  307 

he  ordered  him  to  pitch  the  tents  and  form  the  encamp 
ment  in  the  orchard  and  field  on  their  right.  To  the 
other  aid  his  orders  were  to  detach  a  quarter  guard  and 
station  piquets  on  each  road.  Then  bowing  very  low, 
he  added  :  "  Madam,  the  service  of  his  Majesty  requires 
the  temporary  occupation  of  your  property  ;  and  if  it 
would  not  be  too  great  an  inconvenience,  I  will  take  up 
my  quarters  in  your  house." 

The  tone  admitted  no  controversy.  Mrs.  Slocumb 
answered:  "My  family  consists  of  only  myself,  my 
sister  and  child,  and  a  few  negroes.  We  are  your 
prisoners." 

From  the  piazza  where  he  seated  himself,  Tarleton 
commanded  a  view  of  the  ground  on  which  his  troops 
were  arranging  their  camp.  The  mansion  fronted  the 
east,  and  an  avenue  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  wide,  and 
about  half  a  mile  in  length,  stretched  to  the  eastern 
side  of  the  plantation,  where  was  a  highway,  with  open 
grounds  beyond  it,  partly  dry  meadow  and  partly  sand 
barren.  This  avenue  was  lined  on  the  south  side  by  a 
high  fence,  and  a  thick  hedge-row  of  forest  trees. 
These  are  now  removed,  and  replaced  by  the  Pride  of 
India  and  other  ornamental  trees.  On  the  north  side 
extended  the  common  rail-fence  seven  or  eight  feet 
high,  such  as  is  usually  seen  on  plantations  in  the  low 
country.  The  encampment  of  the  British  troops  being 
on  that  part  of  the  plantation  lying  south  of  the  avenue, 
it  was  completely  screened  by  the  fences  and  hedge-row 
from  the  view  of  any  one  approaching  from  down  the 
country. 


308  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

While  the  men  were  busied,  different  officers  came  up 
at  intervals,  making  their  reports  and  receiving  orders. 
Among  others,  a  tory  captain,  whom  Mrs.  Slocumb  im 
mediately  recognized — for  before  joining  the  royal  army, 
he  had  lived  fifteen  or  twenty  miles  below — received 
orders  in  her  hearing  to  take  his  troop  and  scour  the 
country  for  two  or  three  miles  round. 

In  an  hour  every  thing  was  quiet,  and  the  plantation 
presented  the  romantic  spectacle  of  a  regular  encamp 
ment  of  some  ten  or  eleven  hundred  of  the  choicest 
cavalry  of  the  British  monarch. 

Mrs.  Slocumb  now  addressed  herself  to  the  duty  of 
preparing  for  her  uninvited  guests.  The  dinner  set 
before  the  king's  officers  was,  in  her  own  words  to  her 
friend,  "  as  a  good  dinner  as  you  have  now  before  you, 
and  of  much  the  same  materials."  A  description  of 
what  then  constituted  a  good  dinner  in  that  region  may 
not  be  inappropriate.  "  The  first  dish,  was,  of  course, 
the  boiled  ham,  flanked  with  the  plate  of  greens. 
Opposite  was  the  turkey,  supported  by  the  laughing 
baked  sweet  potatoes  ;  a  plate  of  boiled  beef,  another  of 
sausages,  and  a  third  with  a  pair  of  baked  fowls,  formed 
a  line  across  the  centre  of  the  table  ;  half  a  dozen  dishes 
of  different  pickles,  stewed  fruit,  and  other  condiments 
filled  up  the  interstices  of  the  board."  The  dessert,  too, 
was  abundant  and  various.  Such  a  dinner,  it  may 
well  be  supposed,  met  the  particular  approbation  of  the 
royal  officers,  especially  as  the  fashion  of  that  day 
introduced  stimulating  drinks  to  the  table,  and  the  peach 
brandy  prepared  under  Lieutenant  Slocumb's  own 


MARY    SLOCUMB.  309 

supervision,  was  of  the  most  excellent  sort.  It  received 
the  unqualified  praise  of  the  party ;  and  its  merits  were 
freely  discussed.  A  Scotch  officer,  praising  it  by  the 
name  of  whiskey,  protested  that  he  had  never  drunk  as 
good  out  of  Scotland.  An  officer  speaking  writh  a  slight 
brogue,  insisted  it  was  not  whiskey,  and  that  no  Scotch 
drink  ever  equalled  it.  "  To  my  mind,"  said  he,  "  it 
tastes  as  yonder  orchard  smells." 

"Allow  me,  madam,"  said  Colonel  Tarleton,  to  inquire 
where  the  spirits  we  are  drinking  is  procured." 

"  From  the  orchard  where  your  tents  stand,"  answered 
Mrs.  Slocumb. 

"Colonel,"  said  the  Irish  captain,  "when  we  conquer 
this  country,  is  it  not  to  be  divided  out  among  us  ?" 

"The  officers  of  this  army,"  replied  the  Colonel,  "will 
undoubtedly  receive  large  possessions  of  the  conquered 
American  provinces." 

Mrs.  Slocumb  here  interposed.  "  Allow  me  to 
observe  and  prophesy,"  said  she,  "  the  only  land  in  these 
United  States  which  will  ever  remain  in  possession  of 
a  British  officer,  will  measure  but  six  feet  by  two." 

"Excuse  me,  madam,"  remarked  Tarleton.  "For 
your  sake  I  regret  to  say — this  beautiful  plantation  will 
be  the  ducal  seat  of  some  of  us." 

"  Don't  trouble  yourself  about  me,"  retorted  the  spirited 
lady.  "  My  husband  is  not  a  man  who  would  allow  a 
duke,  or  even  a  king,  to  have  a  quiet  seat  upon  his 
ground." 

At  this  point  the  conversation  was  interrupted  by 
rapid  volleys  of  fire-arms,  appearing  to  proceed  from  the 


310  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

wood  a  short  distance  to  the  eastward.  One  of  the 
aids  pronounced  it  some  straggling  scout,  running  from 
the  picket-guard ;  but  the  experience  of  Colonel  Tarle- 
ton  could  not  be  easily  deceived. 

"  There  are  rifles  and  muskets/'  said  he,  "  as  well  as 
pistols ;  and  too  many  to  pass  unnoticed.  Order  boots 
and  saddles,  and  you — Captain,  take  your  troop  in  the 
direction  of  the  firing." 

The  officer  rushed  out  to  execute  his  orders,  while 
the  Colonel  walked  into  the  piazza,  whither  he  was 
immediately  followed  by  the  anxious  ladies.  Mrs. 
Slocumb's  agitation  and  alarm  may  be  imagined ;  for 
she  guessed  but  too  well  the  cause  of  the  interruption. 
On  the  first  arrival  of  the  officers  she  had  been  impor 
tuned,  even  with  harsh  threats — not,  however,  by  Tarle- 
ton — to  tell  where  her  husband,  when  absent  on  duty, 
was  likely  to  be  found ;  but  after  her  repeated  and 
peremptory  refusals,  had  escaped  further  molestation  on 
the  subject.  She  feared  now  that  he  had  returned 
unexpectedly,  and  might  fall  into  the  enemy's  hands 
before  he  was  aware  of  their  presence. 

Her  sole  hope  was  in  a  precaution  she  had  adopted 
soon  after  the  coming  of  her  unwelcome  guests.  Hav 
ing  heard  Tarleton  give  the  order  to  the  tory  captain 
as  before-mentioned,  to  patrol  the  country,  she  imme 
diately  sent  for  an  old  negro,  and  gave  him  directions 
to  take  a  bag  of  corn  to  the  mill  about  four  miles  dis- 

O 

tant,  on  the  road  she  knew  her  husband  must  travel  if 
he  returned  that  day.  "  Big  George"  was  instructed  to 
warn  his  master  of  the  danger  of  approaching  his 


MARY    SLOCUMB.  311 

home.  With  the  indolence  and  curiosity  natural  to  his 
race,  however,  the  old  fellow  remained  loitering  about 
the  premises,  and  was  at  this  time  lurking  under  the 
hedge-row,  admiring  the  red  coats,  dashing  plumes,  and 
shining  helmets  of  the  British  troopers. 

The  Colonel  and  the  ladies  continued  on  the  look-out 
from  the  piazza.  "  May  I  be  allowed,  madam,"  at 
length  said  Tarleton,  "  without  offence,  to  inquire  if 
any  part  of  Washington's  army  is  in  this  neighbor 
hood. 

"  I  presume  it  is  known  to  you,"  replied  Mrs. 
Slocumb,  "  that  the  Marquis  and  Greene  are  in  this 
State.  And  you  would  not  of  course,"  she  added,  after 
a  slight  pause,  "  be  surprised  at  a  call  from  Lee,  or 
your  old  friend  Colonel  Washington,  who,  although  a 
perfect  gentleman,  it  is  said  shook  your  hand  (pointing 
to  the  scar  left  by  Washington's  sabre)  very  rudely, 
when  you  last  met."* 

This  spirited  answer  inspired  Tarleton  with  appre 
hensions  that  the  skirmish  in  the  woods  was  only  the 
prelude  to  a  concerted  attack  on  his  camp.  His  only 
reply  was  a  loud  order  to  form  the  troops  on  the  right ; 
and  springing  on  his  charger,  he  dashed  down  the 
avenue  a  few  hundred  feet,  to  a  breach  in  the  hedge- 

*  As  I  cannot  distrust  the  authority  on  which  I  have  received  this 
anecdote,  it  proves  that  on  more  than  one  occasion  the  British  colonel 
was  made  to  feel  the  shaft  of  female  wit,  in  allusion  to  the  unfortunate 
battle  of  the  Cowpens.  It  is  said  that  in  a  close  encounter  between 
Washington  and  Tarleton  during  that  action,  the  latter  was  wounded 
by  a  sabre  cut  on  the  hand.  Colonel  Washington,  as  is  well  known, 
figured  in  some  of  the  skirmishes  in  North  Carolina. 


312  WOMEN     OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

row,  leaped  the  fence,  and  in  a  moment  was  at  the  head 
of  his  regiment,  which  was  already  in  line. 

Meanwhile,  Lieutenant  Slocumb,  with  John  Howell, 
a  private  in  his  band,  Henry  Williams,  and  the  brother 
of  Mrs.  Slocumb,  Charles  Hooks,  a  boy  of  about  thir 
teen  years  of  age,  was  leading  a  hot  pursuit  of  the  tory 
captain  who  had  been  sent  to  reconnoitre  the  country, 
and  some  of  his  routed  troop.  These  were  first  dis 
cerned  in  the  open  grounds  east  and  northeast  of  the 
plantation,  closely  pursued  by  a  body  of  American 
mounted  militia  ;  while  a  running  fight  was  kept  up 
with  different  weapons,  in  which  four  or  five  broad 
swords  gleamed  conspicuous.  The  foremost  of  the 
pursuing  party  appeared  too  busy  with  the  tories  to  see 
any  thing  else  ;  and  they  entered  the  avenue  at  the 
same  moment  with  the  party  pursued.  With  what 
horror  and  consternation  did  Mrs.  Slocumb  recognize 
her  husband,  her  brother,  and  two  of  her  neighbors,  in 
chase  of  the  tory  captain  and  four  of  his  band,  already 
half-way  down  the  avenue,  and  unconscious  that  they 
were  rushing  into  the  enemy's  midst ! 

About  the  middle  of  the  avenue  one  of  the  tories 
fell ;  and  the  course  of  the  brave  and  imprudent  young 
officers  was  suddenly  arrested  by  "  Big  George,"  who 
sprang  directly  in  front  of  their  horses,  crying,  "  Hold 
on,  massa!  de  debbil  here!  Look  yon  !"*  A  glance  to 
the  left  showed  the  young  men  their  danger:  they  were 
within  pistol  shot  of  a  thousand  men  drawn  up  in  order 
of  battle.  Wheeling  their  horses,  they  discovered  a 
*  Yon,  for  yonder. 


MARY    SLOCUMB.  313 

troop  already  leaping  the  fence  into  the  avenue  in  their 
rear.  Quick  as  thought  they  again  wheeled  their 
horses,  and  dashed  down  the  avenue  directly  towards 
the  house,  where  stood  the  quarter-guard  to  receive 
them.  On  reaching  the  garden  fence — a  rude  structure 
formed  of  a  kind  of  lath,  and  called  a  wattled  fence — 
they  leaped  that  and  the  next,  amid  a  shower  of  balls 
from  the  guard,  cleared  the  canal  at  one  tremendous  leap, 
and  scouring  aeross  the  open  field  to  the  northwest, 
were  in  the  shelter  of  the  wood  before  their  pursuers 
could  clear  the  fences  of  the  enclosure.  The  whole 
ground  of  this  adventure  may  be  seen  as  the  traveller 
passes  over  the  Wilmington  railroad,  a  mile  and  a  half 
south  of  Dudley  depot. 

A  platoon  had  commenced  the  pursuit ;  but  the 
trumpets  sounded  the  recall  before  the  flying  Ameri 
cans  had  crossed  the  canal.  The  presence  of  mind 
and  lofty  language  of  the  heroic  wife,  had  convinced 
the  British  Colonel  that  the  daring  men  who  so  fear 
lessly  dashed  into  his  camp  were  supported  by  a  for 
midable  force  at  hand.  Had  the  truth  been  known, 
and  the  fugitives  pursued,  nothing  could  have  prevented 
the  destruction  not  only  of  the  four  who  fled,  but  of  the 
rest  of  the  company  on  the  east  side  of  the  plan 
tation. 

Tarleton  had  rode  back  to  the  front  of  the  house, 
where  he  remained  eagerly  looking  after  the  fugitives 
till  they  disappeared  in  the  wood.  He  called  for  the 
tory  captain,  who  presently  came  forward,  questioned 
him  about  the  attack  in  the  woods,  asked  the  names  of 
14 


314  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

the  American  officers,  and  dismissed  him  to  have  his 
wounds  dressed,  and  see  after  his  men.  The  last  part 
of  the  order  was  needless  ;  for  nearly  one-half  of  his 
troop  had  fallen.  The  ground  is  known  to  this  day  as 
the  Dead  Men's  Field. 

As  Tarleton  walked  into  the  house  he  observed  to 
Mrs.  Slocumb,  "  Your  husband  made  us  a  short  visit, 
madam.  I  should  have  been  happy  to  make  his  acquain 
tance,  and  that  of  his  friend,  Mr.  Williams." 

"I  have  little  doubt,"  replied  the  wife,  "  that  you  will 
meet  the  gentlemen,  and  they  will  thank  you  for  the 
polite  manner  in  which  you  treat  their  friends." 

The  Colonel  observed  apologetically,  that  necessity 
compelled  them  to  occupy  her  property ;  that  they 
took  only  such  things  as  were  necessary  to  their  sup 
port,  for  which  they  were  instructed  to  offer  proper  re 
muneration  ;  and  that  every  thing  should  be  done  to 
render  their  s-tay  as  little  disagreeable  as  possible. 
The  lady  expressed  her  thankfulness  for  his  kindness, 
and  withdrew  to  her  room,  while  the  officers  returned 
to  their  peach-brandy  and  coffee,  and  closed  the  day 
with  a  merry  night. 

Slocumb  and  his  companions  passed  rapidly  round 
the  plantation,  and  returned  to  the  ground  where  the 
encounter  had  taken  place,  collecting  on  the  way  the 
stragglers  of  his  troop.  Near  their  bivouac  he  saw 
the  tory  captain's  brother,  who  had  been  captured  by 
the  Americans,  hanging  by  a  bridal  rein  from  the  top 
of  a  sapling  bent  down  for  the  purpose,  and  struggling 
in  the  agonies  of  death,  Hastening  to  the  spot,  he 


MARY    SLOCUMB.  315 

severed  the  rein  with  a  stroke  of  his  sword,  and  with 
much  difficulty  restored  him  to  life.  Many  in  the  lower 
part  of  North  Carolina  can  remember  an  old  man 
whose  protruded  eyes  and  suffused  countenance  pre 
sented  the  appearance  of  one  half  strangled.  He  it 
was  who  thus  owed  his  life  and  liberty  to  the  humanity 
of  his  generous  foe. 

Mr.  Slocumb,  by  the  aid  of  Major  Williams,  raised 
about  two  hundred  men  in  the  neighborhood,  and  with 
this  force  continued  to  harass  the  rear  of  the  royal 
army,  frequently  cutting  off  foraging  parties,  till  they 
crossed  the  Roanoke,  when  they  joined  the  army  of 
La  Fayette  at  Warrenton.  He  remained  with  the 
army  till  the  surrender  at  Yorktown. 

It  need  hardly  be  mentioned  that  "Big  George" 
received  his  reward  for  this  and  other  services.  His 
life  with  his  master  was  one  of  ease  and  indulgence. 
On  the  division  of  Colonel  Slocumb's  estate  some  years 
since,  a  considerable  amount  was  paid  to  enable  the 
faithful  slave  to  spend  the  remnant  of  his  days  with  his 
wife,  who  belonged  to  another  person. 

Another  anecdote,  communicated  by  the  same  friend 
of  Mrs.  Slocumb,  is  strikingly  illustrative  of  her  resolu 
tion  and  strength  of  will.  The  occurrence  took  place 
at  a  time  when  the  whole  country  was  roused  by  the 
march  of  the  British  and  loyalists  from  the  Cape  Fear 
country,  to  join  the  royal  standard  at  Wilmington. 
The  veteran  Donald  McDonald  i-ssued  his  proclamation 
at  Cross  Creek,  in  February,  1776,  and  having  assembled 
his  Highlanders,  marched  across  rivers  and  through 


316  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

forests,  in  haste  to  join  Governor  Martin  and  Sir  Henry 
Clinton,  who  were  already  at  Cape  Fear.  But  while 
he  had  eluded  the  pursuit  of  Moore,  the  patriots  of  New- 
bern  and  Wilmington  Districts  were  not  idle.  It  was 
a  time  of  noble  enterprise,  and  gloriously  did  leaders 
and  people  come  forward  to  meet  the  emergency.  The 
gallant  Richard  Caswell  called  his  neighbors  hastily 
together ;  and  they  came  at  his  call  as  readily  as  the 
clans  of  the  Scotch  mountains  mustered  at  the  signal  of 
the  burning  cross.  The  whole  county  rose  in  mass ; 
scarce  a  man  able  to  walk  was  left  in  the  Neuse  region. 
The  united  regiments  of  Colonels  Lillington  and  Cas 
well  encountered  McDonald  at  Moore's  Creek  ;*  where, 
on  the  twenty-seventh,  was  fought  one  of  the  bloodiest 
battles  of  the  Revolution.  Colonel  SloQumb's  recollec 
tions  of  this  bravely-contested  field  were  too  vivid  to 
be  dimmed  by  the  lapse  of  years.  He  was  accustomed 
to  dwell  but  lightly  on  the  gallant  part  borne  by  himself 
in  that  memorable  action ;  but  he  gave  abundant  praise 
to  his  associates ;  and  well  did  they  deserve  the  tribute. 
"And,"  he  would  say — "my  wife  was  there!"  She 
was  indeed  ;  but  the  story  is  best  told  in  her  own  words  : 
"  The  men  all  left  on  Sunday  morning.  More  than 
eighty  went  from  this  house  with  my  husband ;  I  looked 
at  them  well,  and  I  could  see  that  every  man  had 
mischief  in  him.  I  know  a  coward  as  soon  as  1  set 
my  eyes  upon  him.  The  tories  more  than  once  *ried 

*  Moore's  Creek,  running  from  north  to  south,  empties  into  the  South 
River,  ahout  twenty  miles  above  Wilmington.  See  sketch  of  Flora 
McDonald. 


MARY    SLOCUMB.  317 

to  frighten  me,  but  they  always  showed  coward  at  the 
bare  insinuation  that  our  troops  were  about. 

"  Well,  they  got  off'  in  high  spirits  ;  every  man  stepping 
high  and  light.  And  1  slept  soundly  and  quietly  that 
night,  and  worked  hard  all  the  next  day;  but  I  kept 
thinking  where'  they  had  got  to — how  far;  where  and 
how  many  of  the  regulars  and  tories  they  would  meet ; 
and  I  could  not  keep  myself  from  the  study.  I  went  to 
bed  at  the  usual  time,  but  still  continued  to  study.  As 
I  lay — whether  waking  or  sleeping  I  know  not — I  had 
a  dream  ;  yet  it  was  not  all  a  dream.  (She  used  the 
words,  unconsciously,  of  the  poet  who  was  not  then  in 
being.)  I  saw  distinctly  a  body  wrapped  in  my  husband's 
guard-cloak — bloody — dead  ;  and  others  dead  and 
wounded  on  the  ground  about  him.  I  saw  them  plainly 
and  distinctly.  I  uttered  a  cry,  and  sprang  to  my  feet 
on  the  floor  :  and  so  strong  was  the  impression  on  my 
mind,  that  I  rushed  in  the  direction  the  vision  appeared, 
and  came  up  against  the  side  of  the  house.  The  fire  in 
the  room  gave  little  light,  and  I  gazed  in  every  direction 
to  catch  another  glimpse  of  the  scene.  I  raised  the 
light;  every  thing  was  still  and  quiet.  My  child  was 
sleeping,  but  my  woman  was  awakened  by  my  crying 
out  or  jumping  on  the  floor.  If  ever  I  felt  fear  it  was 
at  that  moment.  Seated  on  the  bed,  I  reflected  a  few 
moments — and  said  aloud  :  '  I  must  go  to  him.'  I  told 
the  woman  I  could  not  sleep  and  would  ride  down  the 
road.  She  appeared  in  great  alarm ;  but  I  merely  told 
her  to  lock  the  door  after  me,  and  look  after  the  child. 
I  went  to  the  stable,  saddled  my  mare — as  fleet  and  easy 


318  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

a  nag  as  ever  travelled ;  and  in  one  minute  we  were 
tearing  down  the  road  at  full  speed.  The  cool  night 
seemed  -after  a  mile  or  two's  gallop  to  bring  reflection 
with  it ;  and  I  asked  myself  where  I  was  going,  and  for 
what  purpose.  Again  and  again  I  was  tempted  to  turn 
back;  but  I  was  soon  ten  miles  from  home,  and  my 
mind  became  stronger  every  mile  I  rode.  J  should  find 
my  husband  dead  or  dying — was  as  firmly  my  presenti 
ment  and  conviction  as  any  fact  of  my  life.  When 
day  broke  I  was  some  thirty  miles  from  home.  I  knew 
the  general  route  our  little  army  expected  to  take,  and 
had  followed  them  without  hesitation.  About  sunrise 
I  came  upon  a  group  of  women  and  children,  standing 
and  sitting  by  the  road-side,  each  one  of  them  showing 
the  same  anxiety  of  mind  I  felt.  Stopping  a  few  minutes 
1  inquired  if  the  battle  had  been  fought.  They  knew 
nothing,  but  were  assembled  on  the  road  to  catch  intelli 
gence.  They  thought  Caswell  had  taken  the  right  of 
the  Wilmington  road,  and  gone  towards  the  north 
west  (Cape  Fear).  Again  was  I  skimming  over  the 
ground  through  a  country  thinly  settled,  and  very  poor 
and  swampy  ;  but  neither  my  own  spirits  nor  my  beauti 
ful  nag's  failed  in  the  least.  We  followed  the  well- 
marke-d  trail  of  the  troops. 

"  The  sun  must  have  been  well  up,  say  eight  or  nine 
o'clock,  when  I  heard  a  sound  like  thunder,  which  1 
knew  must  be  cannon.  Jt  was  the  first  time  I  ever 
heard  a  cannon.  I  stopped  still;  when  presently  the 
cannon  thundered  again.  The  battle  was  then  fighting. 
What  a  fool !  my  husband  could  not  be  dead  last  night, 


MARY    SLOCUMB.  319 

and  the  battle  only  fighting  now !  Still,  as  I  am  so 
near,  I  will  go  on  and  see  how  they  come  out.  So 
away  we  went  again,  faster  than  ever ;  and  I  soon  found 
by  the  noise  of  guns  that  I  was  near  the  fight.  Again 
I  stopped.  I  could  hear  muskets,  I  could  hear  rifles, 
and  I  could  hear  shouting.  I  spoke  to  my  mare  and 
dashed  on  in  the  direction  of  the  firing  and  the  shouts, 
now  louder  than  ever.  The  blind  path  I  had  been 
following  brought  me  into  the  Wilmington  road  leading 
to  Moore's  Creek  Bridge,  a  few  hundred  yards  below 
the  bridge.  A  few  yards  from  the  road,  under  a 
cluster  of  trees  were  lying  perhaps  twenty  men.  They 
were  the  wounded.  I  knew  the  spot ;  the  very  trees ; 
and  the  position  of  the  men  I  knew  as  if  I  had  seen  it 
a  thousand  times.  I  had  seen  it  all  night !  I  saw  all 
at  once ;  but  in  an  instant  my  whole  soul  was  centred 
in  one  spot ;  for  there,  wrapped  in  his  bloody  guard- 
cloak,  was  my  husband's  body!  How  I  passed  the 
few  yards  from  my  saddle  to  the  place  I  never  knew. 
I  remember  uncovering  his  head  and  seeing  a  face 
clothed  with  gore  from  a  dreadful  wound  across  the 
temple.  I  put  my  hand  on  the  bloody  face;  'twas 
warm ;  and  an  unknown  voice  begged  for  water.  A 
small  camp-kettle  was  lying  near,  and  a  stream  of  water 
was  close  by.  I  brought  it ;  poured  some  in  his  mouth; 
washed  his  face  ;  and  behold — it  was  Frank  Cogdell. 
He  soon  revived  and  could  speak.  I  was  washing  the 
wound  in  his  head.  Said  he,  '  It  is  not  that ;  it  is  that 
hole  in  my  leg  that  is  killing  me.'  A  puddle  of  blood 
was  standing  on  the  ground  about  his  feet.  I.  took  his 


320  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

knife,  cut  away  his  trousers  and  stocking,  and  found  the 
blood  came  from  a  shot-hole  through  and  through  the 
fleshy  part  of  his  leg.  I  looked  about  and  could  see 
nothing  that  looked  as  if  it  would  do  for  dressing  wounds 
but  some  heart-leaves.  I  gathered  a  handful  and  bound 
them  tight  to  the  holes ;  and  the  bleeding  stopped.  I 
then  went  to  the  others ;  and — Doctor  !  I  dressed  the 
wounds  of  many  a  brave  fellow  who  did  good  fighting 
long  after  that  day !  I  had  not  inquired  for  my  husband ; 
but  while  I  was  busy  Caswell  came  up.  He  appeared 
very  much  surprised  to  see  me ;  and  w%s  with  his  hat  in 
hand  about  to  pay  some  compliment :  but  I  interrupted 
him  by  asking — '  Where  is  my  husband  ?' 

" '  Where  he  ought  to  be,  madam  ;  in  pursuit  of  the 
enemy.  But  pray/  said  he,  '  how  came  you  here  ?' 

"  '  Oh,  I  thought/  replied  I,  '  you  would  need  nurses 
as  well  as  soldiers.  See  !  I  have  already  dressed  many 
of  these  good  fellows ;  and  here  is  one' — going  to 
Frank  and  lifting  him  up  with  my  arm  under  his  head 
so  that  he  could  drink  some  more  water — '  would  have 
died  before  any  of  you  men  could  have  helped  him.' 

" '  I  believe  you/  said  Frank.  Just  then  I  looked 
up,  and  my  husband,  as  bloody  as  a  butcher,  and  as 
muddy  as  a  ditcher,*  stood  before  me. 

"  '  Why,  Mary  !"  he  exclaimed,  '  What  are  you  doing 
there  ?  Hugging  Frank  Cogdell,  the  greatest  reprobate 
in  the  army  V 

*  It  was  his  company  that  forded  the  creek,  and  penetrating  the 
swamp,  made  the  furious  charge  on  the  British  left  and  rear,  which 
decided  the  fate  of  the  day. 


MARY    SLOCUMB.  321 

"  '  I  don't  care/  I  cried.  '  Frank  is  a  brave  fellow, 
a  good  soldier,  and  a  true  friend  to  Congress/ 

" '  True,  true !  every  word  of  it !'  said  Caswell. 
'  You  are  right,  madam  F  with  the  lowest  possible 
bow. 

"  I  would  not  tell  my  husband  what  brought  me 
there.  I  was  so  happy ;  and  so  were  all !  It  was  a 
glorious  victory ;  I  came  just  at  the  height  of  the  en 
joyment.  I  knew  my  husband  was  surprised,  but  I 
could  see  he  was  not  displeased  with  me.  It  was  night 
again  before  our  excitement  had  at  all  subsided.  Many 
prisoners  were  brought  in,  and  among  them  some  very 
obnoxious ;  but  the  worst  of  the  tories  were  not  taken 
prisoners.  They  were,  for  the  most  part,  left  in  the 
woods  and  swamps  wherever  they  were  overtaken.  I 
begged  for  some  of  the  poor  prisoners,  and  Caswell 
readily  told  me  none  should  be  hurt  but  such  as  had 
been  guilty  of  murder  and  house-burning.  In  the  mid 
dle  of  the  night  I  again  mounted  my  mare  and  started 
for  home.  Caswell  and  my  husband  wanted  me  to  stay 
till  next  morning  and  they  would  send  a  party  with  me  ; 
but  no !  I  wanted  to  see  my  child,  and  I  told  them  they 
could  send  no  party  who  could  keep  up  with  me.  What 
a  happy  ride  I  had  back  !  and  with  what  joy  did  I  em 
brace  my  child  as  he  ran  to  meet  me !" 

What  fiction  could  be  stranger  than  such  truth! 
And  would  not  a  plain  unvarnished  narrative  of  the 
sayings  and  doings  of  the  actors  in  Revolutionary  times, 
unknown  by  name,  save  in  the  neighborhood  where 
they  lived,  and  now  almost  forgotten  even  by  their  de- 
14* 


322  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

scendants,  surpass  in  thrilling  interest  any  romance 
ever  written !  In  these  days  of  railroads  and  steam,  it 
can  scarcely  be  credited  that  a  woman  actually  rode 
alone,  in  the  night,  through  a  wild  unsettled  country, 
a  distance — going  and  returning — of  a  hundred  and 
twenty-five  miles  ;  and  that  in  less  than  forty  hours, 
and  without  any  interval  of  rest !  Yet  even  this  fair 
equestrian,  whose  feats  would  astonish  the  modern 
world,  admitted  that  one  of  her  acquaintances  was  a 
better  horsewoman  than  herself.  This  was  Miss  Esther 
Wake,  the  beautiful  sister-in-law  of  Governor  Tryon, 
after  whom  Wake  County  was  named.  She  is  said  to 
have  rode  eighty  miles — the  distance  between  Raleigh 
and  the  Governor's  head-quarters  in  the  neighborhood 
of  Colonel  Slocumb's  residence — to  pay  a  visit ;  re 
turning  the  next  day.  Governor  Tryon  was  here 
several  days,  at  the  time  he  made  the  famous  foray 
against  the  Regulators.  What  would  these  women 
have  said  to  the  delicacy  of  modern  refinement  in  the 
southern  country,  fatigued  with  a  moderate  drive  in  a 
close  carriage,  and  looking  out  on  woods  and  fields  from 
the  windows ! 

The  physiologist  may  explain  the  vision  that  pro 
duced  an  impression  so  powerful  as  to  determine  this 
resolute  wife  upon  her  nocturnal  expedition  to  Moore's 
Creek.  The  idea  of  danger  to  her  husband,  which 
banished  sleep,  was  sufficient  to  call  up  the  illusion  to 
her  excited  imagination  ;  and  her  actions  were  decided 
by  the  impulse  of  the  moment,  prompting  her  to  hasten 
at  once  to  his  assistance. 


MARY    SLOCUMB.  323 

This  is  not  the  place  to  record  the  Revolutionary 
services  of  Colonel  Slocumb.  The  aid  of  one  of  his 
descendants  enables  me  to  add  some  notice  of  the  per 
sonal  history  of  his  wife  to  the  foregoing  anecdotes. 
Her  maiden  name  was  Hooks.  She  was  born  in  the 
county  of  Bertie,  North  Carolina,  in  1760.  When  she 
was  about  ten  years  of  age,  her  father,  after  a  tour  of 
exploration  in  search  of  a  portion  of  country  which 
combined  the  advantages  of  fertility  and  healthful  air, 
removed  his  family  to  the  county  of  Duplin.  He  was 
an  open-hearted,  hospitable  man ;  and  was  one  of 
a  number  bearing  the  same  character,  who  settled  a 
region  of  country  called  Goshen,  still  famous  in  North 
Carolina  for  the  frank  simplicity  of  the  manners  of  its 
inhabitants,  and  for  their  profuse  and  generous  hospi 
tality.  Here  were  nurtured  some  of  the  noblest  spirits 
of  the  Revolution.  The  names  of  Renau,  Hill, 
Wright,  Pearsall,  Hooks,  and  Slocumb,  among  others, 
are  remembered  with  pride.  The  constant  presence 
of  the  loyalists  or  tories  in  the  neighborhood,  and  their 
frequent  depredations,  called  for  vigilance  as  well  as 
bravery.  Many  a  tale  of  treachery  and  cruelty,  enough 
to  freeze  the  blood  with  horror,  is  this  day  told  at  the 
fireside.  Sometimes  the  barn  or  dwelling  of  the  doomed 
whig,  wrapped  in  lurid  flames,  lighted  up  the  darkness 
of  the  night ;  sometimes  his  fate  was  to  be  hung  to  a 
sapling ;  and  not  unfrequently  these  atrocities  were  in 
like  manner  avenged  upon  the  aggressors.  Accustomed 
to  hear  of  such  things,  and  inured  to  scenes  of  danger, 
it  cannot  be  wondered,  that  the  gay  and  sprightly  Mary 


324  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

Hooks  should  acquire  a  degree  of  masculine  energy 
and  independence,  with  many  of  the  accomplishments 
of  the  bolder  sex.  She  was  at  this  time  in  the  early 
bloom  of  youth,  with  slender  and  symmetrical  form 
and  pleasing  features,  animated  by  blue,  expressive, 
laughing  eyes.  If  not  absolutely  beautiful,  her  face 
could  not  fail  to  charm  ;  for  it  beamed  with  the  bright 
soul  that  knew  not  what  it  was  to  fear.  Her  playful 
wit  and  repartee,  rendered  piquant  by  her  powers  of 
sarcasm,  were  rarely  equalled. 

Soon  after  the  removal  of  the  family  to  Goshen,  her 
mother  died ;  and  iii  1777,  her  father  married  the 
widow  of  John  Charles  Slocumb,  who  resided  in  the 
locality  above-described,  on  the  Neuse.  At  the  time 
of  their  marriage,  the  parties  had  each  three  children. 
Ezekiel  Slocumb  was  the  eldest  son,  and  as  the  law 
then  stood,  inherited  the  whole  of  his  father's  real  estate. 
Of  the  two  plantations  to  which  he  was  entitled,  how 
ever,  he  gave  one  to  his  brother.  Though  but  a  youth 
of  seventeen,  the  management  of  the  property  devolved 
on  him  ;  while  the  other  children  of  the  united  family 
lived  together  at  Goshen.  Indue  time  for  a  "  course  of 
love,"  Ezekiel  Slocumb  and  Mary  Hooks  were  married, 
both  being  about  eighteen  years  of  age.  The  lovely 
and  spirited  bride  immediately  entered  upon  her  duties 
at  her  husband's  home  on  the  Neuse  ;  but  they  were 
not  allowed  to  remain  long  in  untroubled  security.  To 
prevent  or  punish  the  frequent  depredations  of  the 
tories,  the  boy-husband  joined  a  troop  of  light-horse, 
who,  acting  on  their  own  responsibility,  performed  the 


MARY    SLOCUMB.  325 

duty  of  scouts,  scouring  the  country  wherever  they  had 
notice  of  any  necessity  for  their  presence.  In  these 
prolonged  absences,  Mrs.  Slocumb  took  the  entire 
charge  of  the  plantation,  being  obliged  to  perform  many 
of  the  duties  which  usually  fall  to  the  lot  of  the  rougher 
sex.  She  used  to  say,  laughingly,  that  she  had  done  in 
those  perilous  times  all  that  a  man  ever  did,  except 
"  mauling  rails  ;"  and  to  take  away  even  that  exception 
she  went  out  one  day  and  split  a  few.  She  was  a 
graceful  and  fearless  rider ;  and  Die  Vernon  herself 
never  displayed  more  skillful  horsemanship  in  scamper 
ing  over  the  hills  of  Scotland,  than  did  the  subject  of  this 
memoir,  in  her  excursions  through  the  wild  woods  of 
Neuse.  Not  only  was  this  southern  accomplishment 
then  in  vogue  among  the  women,  but  it  was  not  thought 
unfeminine  to  chase  the  fox.  Many  a  time  and  oft  has 
our  heroine  been  in  at  the  death,  and  won  the  honor. 
Nor  could  the  stag  say  confidently,  '  this  day  he  would 
not  die/  if  Mary  Slocumb  chanced  to  be  mounted  on 
"Old  Roan,"  with  her  light  unerring  "Joe  Manton" 
slung  at  her  side ! 

But  those  were  not  days  for  sport  and  pleasure  alone. 
In  the  knowledge  how  to  spin,  sew,  and  weave,  our  fair 
equestrian  was  perfect.  She  could  also  wash  and  cook ; 
and  it  was  her  pride  to  excel  in  all  she  did.  In  those 
days  matrons  of  condition  disdained  not  labor  with  their 
hands  ;  nor  were  affluent  circumstances  an  excuse  for 
idleness  or  extravagance.  The  results  of  her  persever 
ing  industry  and  that  of  her  domestics  appeared  at  her 
death  in  curtains,  quilts,  and  cloths  of  various  sorts  and 


326  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

patterns,  sufficient  in  quantity  to  furnish  a  country 
store.  Let  our  indolent  fine  ladies  blush  for  themselves 
when  they  learn  that  a  woman  of  mind  and  intelligence, 
whose  rare  powers  of  conversation  charmed  the  social 
circle,  actually  carded,  spun,  wove,  cut  and  made  all 
the  clothes  worn  by  an  officer  of  the  army  in  active 
service  during  the  southern  campaign,  including  his 
guard-cloak  ;  and  that  the  material  of  her  own  dress 
was  manufactured  by  her  own  hands  !* 

*  The  following  picture  of  a  housewife  of  the  olden  time  is  taken 
from  the  MS.  "  Remembrancer"  of  Christopher  Marshall,  Member  of 
the  Committee  of  Observation,  &c.,  &c.  These  curious  manuscript 
papers  have  been  arranged  by  William  Duane,  jun.,  of  Philadel 
phia  : 

"  As  I  have  in  this  memorandum  taken  scarcely  any  notice  of  my 
wife's  employments,  it  might  appear  as  if  her  engagements  were  very 
trifling;  the  which  is  not  the  case,  but  the  reverse;  and  to  do  her 
that  justice  which  her  services  deserved,  by  entering  them  minutely, 
would  take  up  most  of  my  time,  for  this  genuine  reason,  how  that 
from  early  in  the  morning  till  late  at  night,  she  is  constantly  employ 
ed  in  the  affairs  of  the  family,  which  for  four  months  has  been  very 
large  ;  for  besides  the  addition  to  our  family  in  the  house,  [is]  a  con 
stant  resort  of  comers  and  goers,  which  seldom  go  away  with  dry  lips 
and  hungry  bellies.  This  calls  for  her  constant  attendance,  not  only 
to  provide,  but  also  to  attend  at  getting  prepared  in  the  kitchen,  bak 
ing  our  bread  and  pies,  meat,  &c.,  and  also  on  the  table.  Her  clean 
liness  about  the  house,  her  attendance  in  the  orchard,  cutting  and 
drying  apples,  of  which  several  bushels  have  been  procured  ;  add  to 
which,  her  making  of  cider  without  tools",  for  the  constant  drink  of 
the  family,  her  seeing  all  our  washing  done,  and  her  fine  clothes  and 
my  shirts,  the  which  are  all  smoothed  by  her  ;  add  to  this,  her  making 
of  twenty  large  cheeses,  and  that  from  one  cow,  and  daily  using  with 
milk  and  cream,  besides  her  sewing,  knitting,  &c.  Thus  she  looketh 
well  to  the  ways  of  her  household,  and  eateth  not  the  bread  of  idle 


MARY    SLOCUMB.  327 

Mrs.  Slocumb's  was  a  happy  girlhood  and  youth. 
She  always  recurred  to  its  history  with  delight ;  and 
retained  the  fashion  of  dress  then  prevalent  with  a  fond 
pertinacity  amusing  to  others.  She  scorned  ever  to 
wear  any  other  than  the  long  tight-waisted  habit  worn 
in  her  youthful  days  ;  and  however  costly  the  material, 
it  had  to  be  cut  in  the  good  old  way.  For  almost  sixty 
years  she  never  did,  and  never  would,  allow  herself  to 
vary  one  iota  from  the  fashion  of  Seventy- Six.  It  was 
with  her  a  matter  of  pride  no  less  than  taste ;  it  was  a 
relic  of  the  Revolution  ;  and  it  would  have  savored  of 
ingratitude,  if  not  of  impiety,  to  cast  it  away. 

The  true  dignity  of  an  American  matron  was  shown 
in  Mrs.  Slocumb's  reception  and  entertainment  of  the 
British  officers,  as  already  related.  Her  deportment 
was  uniformly  calm  and  self-possessed  ;  her  lofty  spirit 
gave  to  her  s-lender  and  fragile  form  a  majesty  that 
secured  the  respect  of  all  the  officers,  and  protected  her 
from  the  slightest  approach  towards  insolent  familiarity. 
She  presided  at  her  table  with  dignity  and  courtesy, 
extending  open  hospitality  to  all  her  unbidden  guests. 
Her  liberality  was  acknowledged  by  strict  orders  that 
no  depredations  should  be  committed  on  any  thing 
belonging  to  the  house  or  plantation.  These  orders 
were  in  general  successfully  enforced  ;  but  even  military 
authority  could  not  save  the  farm-yard  poultry  or  stock 
from  a  hungry  soldiery.  Not  a  feather  was  left,  and 

ness  ;  yea,  she  also  stretcheth  out  her  hand,  and  she  reacheth  forth 
her  hand  to  her  needy  friends  and  neighbors.  I  think  she  has  not 
been  above  four  times  since  her  residence  has  been  here,  to  visit  her 
neighbors. 


328  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

many  a  fine  bullock  was  knocked  in  the  head.  But  in 
other  things  the  protection  availed  her.  On  the  news 
of  the  army's  approach,  she  had  taken  the  precaution  to 
bury  in  the  edge  of  a  marsh  near  at  hand,  her  plate  and 
other  valuables.  The  soldiers  suspected  the  place  of 
deposit,  and  plunged  their  pike-staffs  into  the  ground 
about  the  spot,  until  they  discovered  the  treasure. 
They  were  compelled  to  restore  it  to  the  rightful  owner. 

Mrs.  Slocurnb's  little  son,  at  this  time  two  or  three 
years  old,  became  a  pet  with  several  of  the  officers. 
The  little  fellow  was  permitted  to  share  with  them  the 
pleasure  and  pride  of  prancing  about  on  their  splendid 
chargers.  Perhaps  to  some  of  them  his  childish  glee 
recalled  their  own  domestic  circles,  and  awakened  in 
their  stern  hearts  the  holy  feelings  of  home.  They 
seemed  delighted  when  the  infant  equestrian  thus 
playing  dragoon,  would  clap  his  little  hands  and  shout 
in  his  innocent  mirth.  This  child  was  the  Hon.  Jesse 
Slocumb,  member  of  Congress,  who  died  full  of  honors  in 
early  manhood.  His  remains  rest  in  the  Congressional 
burial-ground  at  Washington.  The  brother  of  Mrs. 
Slocumb  already  mentioned,  was  at  the  same  time  a 
member  from  the  Wilmington  District.  He  died  two 
or  three  years  since  in  Alabama. 

When  the  British  army  broke  up  their  encampment 
at  the  plantation,  a  sergeant  was  ordered  by  Colonel 
Tarleton  to  stand  in  the  door  till  the  last  soldier  had 
gone  out,  to  ensure  protection  to  a  lady  whose  noble 
bearing  had  inspired  them  all  with  the  most  profound 
respect.  This  order  was  obeyed;  the  guard  brought 


MARY    SLOCUMB.  329 

up  the  rear  of  that  arm}7  in  their  march  northward. 
Mrs.  Slocumb  saw  them  depart  with  tears  of  joy ;  and 
on  her  knees  gave  thanks,  with  a  full  heart,  to  the 
Divine  Being  who  had  protected  her.  A  day  or  two 
afterwards,  her  husband  returned  to  her  arms  and  a 
happy  home.  They  lived  together  for  sixty  years  in 
unbroken  harmony,  the  patriarchs  of  all  that  country, 
and  looked  up  to  by  the  inhabitants  with  unbounded 
love  and  respect.  Many  a  traveller  has  been  entertained 
at  this  hospitable  mansion.  A  chapter  might  here  be 
written  on  the  subject  of  that  ancient  hospitality  now 
so  nearly  obsolete  in  regions  of  country  visited  by  the 
march  of  improvement.  It  was  preserved  in  all  its 
primitive  exuberance  in  the  house  of  Colonel  Slocumb ; 
there  was  always  provision  in  his  larder,  and  a  place 
at  his  board  for  the  chance  guest,  who  was  certain  of  a 
cordial  welcome,  and  wine  which  a  connoisseur  would 
have  pronounced  of  the  choicest  vintage  of  Europe. 
If  it  be  asked  how  this  unbounded  hospitality  was  sup 
ported — the  answer  is,  every  thing  used  was  of  home 
manufacture;  nothing  being  purchased  except  those 
few  essentials  which  are  not  the  produce  of  our  country. 
Mrs.  Slocumb  possessed  a  strong  and  original  mind, 
a  commanding  intellect  and  clear  judgment,  which  she 
retained  unimpaired  to  the  time  of  her  death.  Among 
her  friends  she  was  remarkable  for  vivid  powers  of  con 
versation,  while  those  less  familiarly  acquainted  thought 
her  reserved,  and  some  fancied  her  severe  and  sarcastic. 
In  this  respect  she  was  misjudged,  for  her  severity  was 
aimed  only  at  folly  or  misconduct. 


330  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

Her  characteristic  fortitude  in  the  endurance  of  bodily 
pain — so  great  that  it  seemed  absolute  stoicism — should 
be  noticed.  In  her  seventy-second  year  she  was  afflicted 
with  a  cancer  on  her  hand,  which  the  surgeon  informed 
her  must  be  removed  with  the  knife.  At  the  time 
appointed  for  the  operation  she  protested  against  being 
held  by  the  assistants,  telling  the  surgeon,  "it  was  his 
business  to  cut  out  the  cancer ;  she  would  take  care  of 
her  arm."  He  insisted,  however,  on  her  submitting  to 
be  held.  At  the  first  incision,  one  of  the  assistants 
complained  of  faintness ;  Mrs.  Slocumb  bade  him  go 
away;  and  driving  them  off,  braced  her  arm  on  the 
table,  and  never  moved  a  muscle  nor  uttered  a  groan 
during  the  operation. 

In  her  last  years  she  was  visited  with  a  complication 
of  disorders,  enough  to  have  broken  the  stoutest  spirit; 
but  bore  all  with  Christian  patience,  and  at  the  age  of 
seventy-six  sank  quietly  to  rest.  She  died  on  the  sixth  of 
March,  1836.  Her  venerable  husband  survived  her 
about  five  years.  Both  now  slumber  together  near 
the  home  where  they  lived  and  loved  so  long.  Pleasant 
Green  has  passed  into  the  hands  of  other  owners; 
the  noble  old  oaks  that  surrounded  the  mansion  and 
lined  the  avenue,  have  been  girdled,  and  seem  to  lift 
their  bare  arms  in  lamentation  for  their  ancient  pos 
sessors.  But  the  memory  of  those  who  dwelt  there  is 
linked  with  glorious  recollections,  which  time  can  never 
efface  from  American  hearts. 


ESTHER    WAKE.  331 

MENTION  has  been  made  of  Esther  Wake,  the  sister 
of  Lady  Tryon.  These  two  lovely  and  accomplished 
women  exercised  great  influence,  according  to  tradition, 
in  matters  of  state.*  The  gallantry  of  a  warm-hearted 
people  perhaps  inclined  them  to  estimate  the  character 
of  their  governor  by  the  grace,  beauty  and  accomplish 
ment  that  adorned  his  domestic  circle.  The  governor's 
dinners  were  princely,  and  the  fascination  of  the  ladies 
irresistible.  In  his  attempt  to  obtain  an  appropriation 
from  the  assembly  for  building  a  splendid  palace,  female 
genius  and  influence  rose  superior  to  his  official  conse 
quence  and  political  manoeuvres.  Though  the  colony 
was  poor,  their  management  obtained  a  second  grant. 
The  admiration  they  commanded  helped  to  sustain 
Governor  Tryon's  waning  authority.  When  the  royal 
government  was  annihilated,  and  the  motion  to  change 
the  name  of  Tryon  County  was  under  consideration, 
the  resolution  to  alter  that  of  Wake  was  rejected  by 
acclamation.  Thus  the  county  in  which  the  city  of 
Raleigh  is  located,  is  consecrated  to  the  memory  of 
beauty  and  virtue. 

*  Sabine's  American  Loyalists.     Jones'  Defence  of  North  Carolina. 


XXV. 


SARAH    BACHE.* 

SARAH,  the  only  daughter  of  Benjamin  Franklin,  was 
born  at  Philadelphia,  on  the  eleventh  of  September,  1744. 
Of  her  early  years  no  particulars  can  now  be  obtained; 
but  from  her  father's  appreciation  of  the  importance  of 
education,  and  the  intelligence  and  information  that  she 
displayed  through  life,  we  may  presume  that  her  studies 
WQ,re  as  extensive  as  were  then  pursued  by  females  in 
any  of  the  American  colonies. 

In  1764,  she  was  called  to  part  with  her  father,  sent 
to  Europe  for  the  first  time  in  a  representative  capacity. 
The  people  of  Pennsylvania  were  at  that  time  divided 
into  two  parties — the  supporters  and  the  opponents  of 
the  proprietaries.  The  sons  of  Penn,  as  is  known, 
had  left  the  religion  of  their  father,  and  joined  the 
Church  of  England;  and  the  bulk  of  that  persuasion 
were  of  the  proprietary  party.  The  mass  of  the 
Quakers  were  in  opposition,  and  with  them  Franklin 
had  acted.  After  having  been  for  fourteen  years  a 

*  Mr.  William  Duane,  Jr.,  to  whose  pen  the  reader  is  indebted  for  this 
sketch — is  the  grandson  of  Mrs  Bache 


SARAH    BACHE.  333 

member  of  the  Assembly,  he  lost  his  election  to  that 
body  in  the  autumn  of  1764,  by  a  few  votes ;  but  his 
friends  being  in  the  majority  in  the  House,  immediately 
elected  him  the  agent  of  the  province  in  England.  The 
proprietary  party  made  great  opposition  to  his  appoint 
ment  ;  and  an  incident  occurred  in  connection  with  it 
that  shows  us  how  curiously  the  affairs  of  Church  and 
State  were  intermingled  in  those  days.  A  petition  or 
remonstrance  to  the  Assembly  against  his  being  chosen 
agent,  was  laid  for  signature  upon  the  communion-table 
of  Christ  Church,  in  which  he  was  a  pew-holder,  and 
his  wife  a  communicant.  His  daughter  appears  to 
have  resented  this  outrage  upon  decency  and  the 
feelings  of  her  family,  and  to  have  spoken  of  leaving 
the  church  in  consequence ;  which  gave  occasion  to  the 
following  dissuasive  in  the  letter  which  her  father  wrote 
to  her  from  Reedy  Island,  November  8th,  1764,  on  his 
way  lo  Europe  :  "  Go  constantly  to  church  whoever 
preaches.  The  act  of  devotion  in  the  common  prayer- 
book  is  your  principal  business  there  ;  and  if  properly 
attended  to,  will  do  more  towards  amending  the  heart 
than  sermons  generally  can  do ;  for  they  were  com 
posed  by  men  of  much  greater  piety  and  wisdom  than 
our  common  composers  of  sermons  can  pretend  to  be  ; 
and  therefore  I  wish  you  would  never  miss  the  prayer 
days.  Yet  I  do  not  mean  you  should  despise  sermons, 
even  of  the  preachers  you  dislike,  for  the  discourse  is 
often  much  better  than  the  man,  as  sweet  and  clear 
waters  come  through  very  dirty  earth.  I  am  the  more 
particular  on  this  head,  as  you  seemed  to  express  a  lit- 


334  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

tie  before  I  came  away  some  inclination  to  leave  our 
church,  which  I  would  not  have  you  do."* 

The  opinion  entertained  by  many  that  a  disposition 
to  mobbing  is  of  modern  growth  in  this  country  is  erro 
neous.  In  Colonial  times  outrages  of  this  character 
were  at  least  as  frequent  as  now.  Dr.  Franklin  had  not 
been  gone  a  year  before  his  house  was  threatened  with 
an  attack.  Mrs.  Franklin  sent  her  daughter  to  Gov 
ernor  Franklin's  in  Burlington,  and  proceeded  to  make 
preparation  for  the  defence  of  her  "  castle."  Her  letter 
detailing  the  particulars  may  be  found  in  the  last  edition 
of  Watson's  Annals  of  Philadelphia. 

The  first  letter  from  Sarah  Franklin  to  her  father 
that  has  been  preserved,  was  written  after  her  return 
from  this  visit  to  Burlington.  In  it  she  says,  •'  The 
subject  now  is  Stamp  Act,  and  nothing  else  is  talked 
of.  The  Dutch  "talk  of  the  'Stamp  tack,'  the  negroes 
of  the  '  tamp' — in  short,  every  body  has  something  to 
say."  The  commissions  which  follow  for  gloves,  laven 
der,  and  tooth-powder,  give  us  a  humble  idea  of  the 
state  of  the  supplies  in  the  Colonies  at  that  day.  The 
letter  thus  concludes  :  "  There  is  not  a  young  lady  of 
my  acquaintance  but  what  desires  to  be  remembered  to 
you.  I  am,  my  dear,  your  very  dutiful  daughter, 

"  SALLY  FRANKLIN." 

In  a  letter  dated  on  the  23d  of  the  following  March 
(1765),  the  Stamp  Act  is  again  mentioned  :  "We  have 

*  The  manuscript  letters  from  which  extracts  are  made  in  this  me 
moir,  are  in  the  possession  of  Mrs.  Bache's  descendants  in  Philadel 
phia. 


SARAH    BACHE.  335 

heard  by  a  round-about  way  that  the  Stamp  Act  is 
repealed.  The  people  seem  determined  to  believe  it, 
though  it  came  from  Ireland  to  Maryland.  The  bells 
rung,  we  had  bonfires,  and  one  house  was  illuminated. 
Indeed  I  never  heard  so  much  noise  in  my  life  ;  the 
very  children  seem  distracted.  I  hope  and  pray  the 
noise  may  be  true." 

A  letter  to  her  brother,  written  September  30th,  1766, 
speaks  thus  of  some  political  movements  in  Philadel 
phia  at  that  time  :  "  The  letter  from  Mr.  Sergeant  was 
to  Daniel  Wistar.  I  send  you  the  Dutch  paper,  where 
I  think  there  is  something  about  it.  On  Friday  night 
there  was  a  meeting  of  seven  or  eight  hundred  men  in 
Hare's  brew-house,  where  Mr.  Ross,  mounted  on  a  bag 
of  grain,  spoke  to  them  a  considerable  time.  He  read 
Sergeant's  letter,  and  some  others,  which  had  a  good 
effect,  as  they  satisfied  many.  Some  of  the  people  say 
he  outdid  Whitfield ;  and  Sir  John  says  he  is  in  a  direct 
line  from  Solomon.  He  spoke  several  things  in  favor 
of  his  absent  friend,  whom  he  called  the  good,  the  wor 
thy  Dr.  Franklin,  and  his  worthy  friend.  After  he  was- 
gone,  Hugh  Roberts  stood  up  and  proposed  him  in 
Willing's  place,  and  desired  those  who  were  for  him  to 
stand  up  ;  and  they  all  rose  to  a  man." 

On  the  29th  of  October,  1767,  Sarah  Franklin  was 
married  to  Richard  Bache,  a  merchant  of  Philadelphia, 
and  a  native  of  Settle,  in  Yorkshire,  England.  After 
their  marriage,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bache  appear  to  have 
resided  with  Mrs.  Franklin  in  the  house  built  by  her  in 


336  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

the  year  1765,  upon  ground  over  which  Franklin  Place 
now  runs.* 

Mrs.  Franklin  died  on  the  19th  of  December,  1774, 
having  been  attacked  by  paralysis  four  days  previously. 
The  mansion  house  continued  to  be  occupied  by  Mr. 
Bache  and  his  family.  In  the  garden  a  willow  tree  was 
planted  by  Mrs.  Bache  on  the  4th  of  July,  1776. 

The  approach  of  the  British  army  through  New 
Jersey  in  December,  1776,  induced  Mr.  Bache  to  re 
move  his  family  to  Goshen  township  in  Chester  County, 
from  which  place  the  following  letter  was  addressed  by 
Mrs.  Bache  to  her  father,  who,  in  the  previous  October, 
had  been  sent  to  France  by  the  American  Congress. 
Mrs.  Bache's  eldest  son  accompanied  him,  and  was  edu 
cated  in  France  and  Geneva  under  the  supervision  of 
his  grandfather. 

"  GOSHEN,  February  23d,  1777. 
"  HONORED  SIR — 

"  We  have  been  impatiently  waiting  to  hear  of 
your  arrival  for  some  time.  It  was  seventeen  weeks 
yesterday  since  you  left  us — a  day  I  shall  never  forget. 

*  This  house,  in  which  Franklin  died,  stood  rather  nearer  to  Chest 
nut  Street  than  to  Market  Street.  The  original  entrance  to  it  was 
over  the  ground  upon  which  No.  112  Market  Street  is  now  built.  On 
Franklin's  return  from  Europe,  he  opened  a  new  entrance  to  it  be 
tween  Nos.  106  and  108,  under  the  archway  still  remaining,  the  house 
No.  106,  and  that  lately  No.  108,  being  built  by  him.  His  house  was 
torn  down  about  the  year  1813,  when  Franklin  Court  was  built  upon 
the  ground  occupied  by  it— the  court  in  front  and  the  garden  in  the 


SARAH  BACHE.  337 

How  happy  shall  we  be  to  hear  you  are  all  safe  arrived 
and  well.  You  had  not  left  us  long  before  we  were 
obliged  to  leave  town.  I  never  shall  forget  nor  forgive 
them  for  turning  me  out  of  house  and  home  in  the  mid 
dle  of  winter,  and  we  are  still  about  twenty-four  miles 
from  Philadephia,  in  Chester  County,  the  next  plan 
tation  to  where  Mr.  Ashbridge  used  to  live.  We  have 
two  comfortable  rooms,  and  we  are  as  happily  situated 
as  I  can  be  separated  from  Mr.  Bache ;  he  comes  to 
see  us  as  often  as  his  business  will  permit.  Your  library 
we  sent  out  of  town  well  packed  in  boxes,  a  week  be 
fore  us,  and  all  the  valuable  things,  mahogany  excepted, 
we  brought  with  us.  There  was  such  confusion  that 
it  was  a  hard  matter  to  get  out  at  any  rate  ;  when  we 
shall  get  back  again  I  know  not,  though  things  are 
altered  much  in  our  favor  since  we  left  town.  I  think 
I  shall  never  be  afraid  of  staying  in  it  again,  if  the 
enemy  were  only  three  miles  instead  of  thirty  from  it, 
since  our  cowards,  as  Lord  Sandwich  calls  them,  are  so 
ready  to  turn  out  against  those  heroes  who  were  to 
conquer  all  before  them,  but  have  found  themselves  so 
much  mistaken ;  their  courage  never  brought  them  to 
Trenton,  till  they  heard  our  army  were  disbanded.  I 
send  you  the  newspapers  ;  but  as  they  do  not  always 
speak  true,  and  as  there  may  be  some  particulars  in 
Mr.  Bache's  letters  to  me  that  are  not  in  them,  I  will 
copy  those  parts  of  his  letters  that  contain  the  news.  I 
think  you  will  have  it  more  regular. 

"  Aunt  has  wrote  to  you,  and  sent  it  to  town.     She 
is  very  well,  and  desires  her  love  to  you  and  Temple. 
15 


338  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

We  have  wished  much  for  him  here  when  we  have 
been  a  little  dull ;  he  would  have  seen  some  characters 
here  quite  new  to  him.  It's  lucky  for  us  Mr.  George 
Clymer's,  Mr.  Meredith's,  and  Mr.  Budden's  families 
are  moved  so  near  us.  They  are  sensible  and  agreeable 
people,  and  are  not  often  alone.  I  have  refused  dining 
at  Mr.  Clymer's  to-day,  that  I  might  have  the  pleasure 
of  writing  to  you  and  my  dear  boy,  who,  I  hope,  be 
haves  so  as  to  make  you  love  him.  We  used  to  think 
he  gave  little  trouble  at  home  ;  but  that  was,  perhaps, 
a  mother's  partiality.  I  am  in  great  hopes  that  the  first 
letter  of  Mr.  Bache  will  bring  me  news  of  your  arrival. 
I  shall  then  have  cause  to  rejoice.  I  am,  my  dear  papa, 
as  much  as  ever,  your  dutiful  and  affectionate  daughter. 

"S.  BACHE." 

Mrs.  Bache  returned  home  with  her  family  shortly- 
after,  but  in  the  following  autumn  the  approach  of  the 
British  army  after  their  victory  on  the  Brandywine, 
again  drove  them  from  Philadelphia.  On  the  17th  of 
September,  1777,  four  days  after  the  birth  of  her  eldest 
daughter,  Mrs.  Bache  left  town,  taking  refuge  at  first  in 
the  hospitable  mansion  of  her  friend  Mrs.  Duffield,  in 
Beasalem  Township,  Bucks  County.  They  afterwards 
removed  to  Manheim  Township  in  Lancaster  County, 
where  they  remained  until  the  evacuation  of  Philadel 
phia  by  the  British  forces.  The  following  extracts  are 
from  letters  written  to  Dr.  Franklin  after  their  return. 
On  the  14th  July,  1778,  Mr.  Bache  writes:  "Once 
more  I  have  the  happiness  of  addressing  you  from  this 


SARAH    BACHE.  339 

dearly  beloved  city,  after  having  been  kept  out  of  it 
more  than  nine  months.  *  *  *  I  found  your  house 
and  furniture  upon  my  return  to  town,  in  much  better 
order  than  I  had  reason  to  expect  from  the  hands  of 
such  a  rapacious  crew ;  they  stole  and  carried  off  with 
them  some  of  your  musical  instruments,  viz  :  a  Welsh 
harp,  ball  harp,  the  set  of  tuned  bells  which  were  in  a 
box,  viol-de-gamba,  all  the  spare  armonica  glasses  and 
one  or  two  spare  cases.  Your  armonica  is  safe.  They 
took  likewise  the  few  books  that  were  left  behind,  the 
chief  of  which  were  Temple's  school  books  and  the 
History  of  the  Arts  and  Sciences  in  French,  which  is 
a  great  loss  to  the  public  ;  some  of  your  electric  appa 
ratus  is  missing  also — a  Captain  Andre  also  took  with 
him  the  picture  of  you  which  hung  in  the  dining-room. 
The  rest  of  the  pictures  are  safe  and  met  with  no 
damage,  except  the  frame  of  Alfred,  which  is  broken  to 
pieces."* 

Andre  was  quartered  in  Franklin's  house  during  the 
sojourn  of  the  British  in  Philadelphia.  In  the  follow 
ing  letter  from  Mrs.  Bache,  his  future  acquaintance 
Arnold  is  mentioned.  It  is  dated  October  22,  1778, 
Mrs.  Bache  having  remained  at  Manheim  with  her 
children  until  the  autumn.  "  This  is  the  first  opportunity 
I  have  had  since  my  return  home  of  writing  to  you. 
We  found  the  house  and  furniture  in  much  better  order 
than  we  could  expect,  which  was  owing  to  the  care  the 

*  The  postscript  to  this  letter  i^  curious  :  "  I  wish  I  could  have  sent 
to  me  from  France  two  dozen  of  padlocks  and  keys  fit  for  mails,  and 
a  dozen  post-horns  ;  they  are  not  to  be  had  here." 


340  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

Miss  Cliftons  took  of  all  we  left  behind ;  my  being 
removed  four  days  after  my  little  girl  was  born,  made 
it  impossible  for  me  to  remove  half  the  things  we  did  in 
our  former  flight."  After  describing  her  little  girl,  she 
adds:  ''I  would  give  a  good  deal  you  could  see  her; 
you  can't  think  how  fond  of  kissing  she  is,  and  gives 
such  old-fashioned  smacks,  General  Arnold  says  he 
would  give  a  good  deal  to  have  her  for  a  school  mistress, 
to  teach  the  young  ladies  how  to  kiss."  *  *  *  There 
is  hardly  such  a  thing  as  living  in  town,  every  thing  is 
so  high,  the  money  is  old  tenor  to  all  intents  and 
purposes.  If  I  was  to  mention  the  prices  of  the  common 
necessaries  of  life  it  would  astonish  you.  I  have  been 
all  amazement  since  my  return;  such  an  odds  have 
two  years  made,  that  I  can  scarcely  believe  I  am  in 
Philadelphia.  *  *  *  They  really  ask  me  six  dollars 
for  a  pair  of  gloves,  and  I  have  been  obliged  to  pay 
fifteen  pounds  for  a  common  calamanco  petticoat 
without  quilting,  that  I  once  could  have  got  for  fifteen 
shillings." 

These  high  prices  were  owing  to  the  depreciation  of 
the  Continental  money,  but  it  subsequently  was  much 
greater.  The  time  came  when  Mrs.  Bache's  domestics 
were  obliged  to  take  two  baskets  with  them  to  market, 
one  empty  to  contain  the  provisions  they  purchased, 
the  other  full  of  continental  money  to  pay  for  them. 

On  the  17th  of  January,  1779,  after  speaking  of  the 
continued  rise  of  prices,  she  writes,  that  "there  never 
was  so  much  dressing  and  pleasure  going  on ;  old  friends 
meeting  again,  the  whigs  in  high  spirits  and  strangers 


SARAH    BACHE.  341 

* 

of  distinction  among  us."  Speaking  of  her  having  met 
with  General  and  Mrs.  Washington  several  times,  she 
adds :  "  He  always  inquires  after  you  in  the  most 
affectionate  manner,  and  speaks  of  you  highly.  We 
danced  at  Mrs.  Powell's  on  your  birth-day,  or  night  I 
should  say,  in  company  together,  and  he  told  me  it  was 
the  anniversary  of  his  marriage ;  it  was  just  twenty  years 
that  night." 

With  this  letter  a  piece  of  American  silk  was  sent  as 
a  present  to  the  Queen  of  France,  Maria  Antionette. 

Dr.  Franklin  in  his  reply  seems  to  have  expressed 
some  dissatisfaction  at  the  gaiety  of  his  countrymen, 
which  he  considered  unseasonable.  Mrs.  Bache  thus 
excuses  herself  for  participating  in  it  in  a  letter  dated 
September  14,  1779:  "I  am  indeed  much  obliged  to 
you  for  your  very  kind  present.  It  never  could  have 
coma  at  a  more  seasonable  time,  and  particularly  so  as 
they  are  all  necessary.  *  *  *  But  how  could 
my  dear  papa  give  me  so  severe  a  reprimand  for  wish 
ing  a  little  finery.  He  would  not,  I  am  sure,  if  he 
knew  how  much  I  have  felt  it.  Last  winter  was  a  sea 
son  of  triumph  to  the  whigs,  and  they  spent  it  gaily. 
You  would  not  have  had  me,  I  am  sure,  stay  away  from 
the  Ambassador's  or  General's  entertainments,  nor  when 
I  was  invited  to  spend  the  day  with  General  Washing 
ton  and  his  lady ;  and  you  w7ould  have  been  the  last 
person,  I  am  sure,  to  have  wished  to  see  me  dressed 
with  singularity.  Though  I  never  loved  dress  so  much 
as  to  wish  to  be  particularly  fine,  yet  I  never  will  go  out 
when  I  cannot  appear  so  as  do  credit  to  my  family 


342  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

and  husband.     *  *     1  can    assure    my  dear 

papa  that  industry  in  this  country  is  by  no  means  laid 
aside ;  but  as  to  spinning  linen,  we  cannot  think  of  that 
till  we  have  got  that  wove  which  we  spun  three  years 
ago.  Mr.  Duffield  has  bribed  a  weaver  that  lives  on 
his  farm  to  weave  me  eighteen  yards,  by  making  him 
three  or  four  shuttles  for  nothing,  and  keeping  it  a  secret 
from  the  country  people,  who  will  not  suffer  them  to 
weave  for  those  in  town.  This  is  the  third  weaver's  it 
has  been  at,  and  many  fair  promises  I  have  had  about 
it.  'Tis  now  done  and  whitening,  but  forty  yards  of 
the  best  remains  at  Liditz  yet,  that  I  was  to  have  had 
home  a  twelvemonth  last  month.  Mrs.  Keppele,  who 
is  gone  to  Lancaster,  is  to  try  to  get  it  done  there  for 
me  ;  but  not  a  thread  will  they  weave  but  for  hard 
money.  My  maid  is  now  spinning  wool  for  winter 
stockings  for  the  whole  family,  which  will  be  no  diffi 
culty  in  the  manufactory,  as  I  knit  them  myself.  I  only 
mention  these  things  that  you  may  see  that  balls  are 
not  the  only  reason  that  the  wheel  is  laid  aside.  * 
*  This  winter  approaches  with  so  many 
horrors  that  I  shall  not  want  any  thing  to  go  abroad  in, 
if  I  can  be  comfortable  at  home.  My  spirits,  which  I 
have  kept  up  during  my  being  drove  about  from  place 
to  place,  much  better  than  most  people's  I  meet  with, 
have  been  lowered  by  nothing  but  the  depreciation  of 
the  money,  which  has  been  amazing  lately,  so  that  home 
will  be  the  place  for  me  this  winter,  as  I  cannot  get  a 
common  winter  cloak  and  hat  but  just  decent  under 
two  hundred  pounds  ;  as  to  gauze  now,  it  is  fifty  dollars 


SARAH    BACHE.  343 

a  yard ;  'tis  beyond  my  wish,  and  I  should  think  it  not 
only  a  shame  but  a  sin  to  buy  it  if  I  had  millions.  It 
is  indeed,  as  you  say,  that  money  is  too  cheap  ;  for 
there  are  so  many  people  that  are  not  used  to  have  it, 
nor  know  the  proper  use  of  it,  that  get  so  much,  that 
they  care  not  whether  they  give  one  dollar  or  a  hun 
dred  for  any  thing  they  want;  but  to  those  whose 
every  dollar  is  the  same  as  a  silver  one,  which  is  our 
case,  it  is  particularly  hard  ;  for  Mr.  Bache  could  not 
bear  to  do  business  in  the  manner  it  has  been  done  in 
this  place,  which  has  been  almost  all  by  monopolizing 
and  forestalling/' 

In  the  patriotic  effort  of  the  ladies  of  Philadel 
phia  to  furnish  the  destitute  American  soldiers  with 
money  and  clothing  during  the  year  1780,  Mrs.  Bache 
took  a  very  active  part.  After  the  death  of  Mrs. 
Reed,  the  duty  of  completing  the  collections  and 
contributions  devolved  on  her  and  four  other  ladies, 
as  a  sort  of  Executive  Committee.  The  shirts 
provided  were  cut  out  at  her  house.  A  letter 
to  Dr.  Franklin,  part  of  which  has  been  published, 
shows  how  earnestly  she  w^as  engaged  in  the  work. 
The  Marquis  de  Chastellux  thus  describes  a  visit  which 
he  paid  her  about  this  time  :  "  After  this  slight  repast, 
which  only  lasted  an  hour  and  a  half,  we  went  to  visit 
the  ladies,  agreeable  to  the  Philadelphia  custom,  where 
the  morning  is  the  most  proper  hour  for  paying  visits. 
We  began  by  Mrs.  Bache.  She  merited  all  the  anxiety 
we  had  to  see  her,  for  she  is  the  daughter  of  Mr.  Frank 
lin.  Simple  in  her  manners,  like  her  respected  father, 


344  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

she  possesses  his  benevolence.  She  conducted  us  into 
a  room  filled  with  work,  lately  finished  by  the  ladies  of 
Philadelphia.  This  work  consisted  neither  of  embroi 
dered  tambour  waistcoats,  nor  of  net-work  edging,  nor 
of  gold  and  silver  brocade.  It  was  a  quantity  of  shirts 
for  the  soldiers  of  Pennsylvania.  The  ladies  bought 
the  linen  from  their  own  private  purses,  and  took  a 
pleasure  in  cutting  them  out  and  sewing  them  them 
selves.  On  each  shirt  was  the  name  of  the  married  or 
unmarried  lady  who  made  it ;  and  they  amounted  to 
twenty-two  hundred. 

Mrs.  Bache  writes  to  Mrs.  Meredith,  at  Trenton ; 
"  I  am  happy  to  have  it  in  my  power  to  tell  you  that 
the  sums  given  by  the  good  women  of  Philadelphia  for 
the  benefit  of  the  army  have  been  much  greater  than 
could  be  expected,  and  given  with  so  much  cheerful 
ness  and  so  many  blessings,  that  it  was  rather  a  pleasing 
than  a  painful  task  to  call  for  it,  I  write  to  claim  you 
as  a  Philadelphian,  and  shall  think  myself  honored  in 
your  donation." 

A  letter  of  M.  de  Marbois  to  Dr.  Franklin,  the 
succeeding  year — thus  speaks  of  his  daughter:  "If* 
there  are  in  Europe  any  women  who  need  a  model  of 
attachment  to  domestic  duties  and  love  for  their  country, 
Mrs.  Bache  may  be  pointed  out  to  them  as  such.  She 
passed  a  part  of  the  last  year  in  exertions  to  rouse  the 
zeal  of  the  Pennsylvania  ladies,  and  she  made  on  this 
occasion  such  a  happy  use  of  the  eloquence  which  you 
know  she  possesses,  that  a  large  part  of  the  American 
army  was  provided  with  shirts,  bought  with  their 


SARAH    BACHE.  345 

money,  or  made  by  their  hands.  In  her  applications 
for  this  purpose,  she  showed  the  most  indefatigable 
zeal,  the  most  unwearied  perseverance,  and  a  courage 
in  asking,  which  surpassed  even  the  obstinate  reluctance 
of  the  Quakers  in  refusing." 

The  letters  of  Mrs.  Bache  show  much  force  of  charac 
ter,  and  an  ardent,  generous  and  impulsive  nature.  She 
has  a  strong  remembrance  of  kindness,  and  attachment 
to  her  friends ;  and  in  writing  to  her  father  her  venera 
tion  for  him  is  ever  apparent,  combined  with  the  confi 
dence  and  affection  of -a  devoted  daughter.  Her  beloved 
children  are  continually  the  theme  on  which  her  pen 
delights  to  dwell.  Again  and  again  the  little  family 
group  is  described  to  her  father  when  abroad ;  and  it  is 
pleasing  to  dwell  on  the  picture  of  the  great  philosopher 
and  statesman  reading  with  parental  interest  domestic 
details  like  the  following ;  "  Willy  begins  to  learn  his 
book  very  well,  and  has  an  extraordinary  memory.  He 
has  learned,  these  last  holidays,  the  speech  of  Anthony 
over  Caesar's  body,  which  he  can  scarcely  speak  with 
out  tears.  When  Betsy  looks  at  your  picture  here, 
she  wishes  her  grandpapa  had  teeth,  that  he  might  be 
able  to  talk  to  her  ;  and  has  frequently  tried  to  tempt 
you  to  walk  out  of  the  frame  with  a  piece  of  apple  pie, 
the  thing  of  all  others  she  likes  best.  Louis  is  remarka 
ble  for  his  sweet  temper  and  good  spirits."  To  her  son 
she  says  :  "  There  is  nothing  would  make  me  happier  than 
your  making  a  good  and  useful  man.  Every  instruction 
with  regard  to  your  morals  and  learning  I  am  sure 
you  have  from  your  grandpapa :  I  shall  therefore  only 


346  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

add  my  prayers  that  all  he  recommends  may  be  strictly 
attended  to." 

In  September,  1785,  after  an  absence  of  nearly  seven 
years  at  the  Court  of  France,  Dr.  Franklin  returned  to 
his  home  in  Philadelphia.  He  spent  the  last  years  of 
his  life  amidst  the  family  of  his  daughter  and  the  de 
scendants  of  the  friends  of  his  early  years,  the  most  of 
whom  he  had  survived. 

In  1792,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bache  visited  England,  and 
would  have  extended  -their  tour  to  France,  had  it  not 
been  for  the  increasing  troubles  of  the  French  Revo 
lution.  They  were  absent  about  a  year. 

Mr.  Bache,  having  relinquished  commercial  pursuits, 
removed  in  1794  to  a  farm  upon  the  river  Delaware, 
sixteen  miles  above  Philadelphia,  which  he  named  Settle, 
after  his  birthplace.  Here  they  spent  upwards  of  thir 
teen  years,  making  their  residence  the  seat  of  hos 
pitality. 

In  1807,  Mrs.  Bache  was  attacked  by  cancer,  and 
removed  to  Philadelphia  in  the  winter  of  1807-8,  for 
the  benefit  of  medical  attendance.  Her  disease  proved 
incurable,  and  on  the  5th  of  October,  1808,  she  died  in 
the  house  in  Franklin  Court,  aged  sixty-four  years. 
Her  remains,  with  those  of  her  husband,  who  survived 
her  a  few  years  only,  are  interred  in  the  Christ  Church 
burial-ground,  beside  those  of  her  parents. 

In  person,  Mrs.  Bache  was  rather  above  the  middle 
height,  and  in  the  latter  years  of  her  life  she  became 
very  stout.  Her  complexion  was  uncommonly  fair, 


SARAH    BACHE.  347 

with  much  color ;  her  hair  brown,  and  her  eyes  blue, 
like  those  of  her  Tather. 

Strong  good  sense,  and  a  ready  flow  of  wit,  were 
among  the  most  striking  features  of  her  mind.  Her 
benevolence  was  very  great,  and  her  generosity  and 
liberality  were  eminent.  Her  friends  ever  cherisnea  a 
warm  affection  for  her. 

It  has  been  related  that  her  father,  with  a  view  of 
accustoming  her  to  bear  disappointments  with  patience, 
was  sometimes  accustomed  to  request  her  to  remain  at 
home,  and  spend  the  evening  over  the  chess-board, 
when  she  was  on  the  point  of  going  out  to  some  meet 
ing  of  her  young  friends.  The  cheerfulness  which  she 
displayed  in  every  turn  of  fortune,  proves  that  this  dis 
cipline  was  not  without  its  good  effect. 

Many  of  her  witticisms  have  been  remembered,  but 
few  of  which,  owing  to  the  local  events  that  gave  rise 
to  them,  and  the  mention  of  individuals,  would  bear  be 
ing  now  repeated.  She  took  a  great  interest  through 
life  in  political  affairs,  and  was  a  zealous  republican. 
Having  learned  that  the  English  lady  to  whom  some  of 
her  daughters  were  sent  to  school,  had  placed  the  pupils 
connected  with  persons  in  public  life  (her  children 
amongst  the  number)  at  the  upper  end  of  the  table, 
upon  the  ground  that  the  young  ladies  of  rank  should 
sit  together,  Mrs.  Bache  sent  her  word  that  in  this 
country  there  was  no  rank  but  rank  mutton. 

Her  remark  concerning  the  Carolinians  has  been 
remembered.  She  said  she  "  hated  them  all  from  Bee 


348  WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 

to  Izard."  Mr.  Izard's  sentiments,  as  is  -known,  were 
anti-Franklinean,  and  he  lost  no  opportunity  of  inveigh 
ing  against  the  philosopher. 

Mrs.  Bache  had  eight  children,  of  whom  a  daughter 
died  very  young,  and  her  eldest  son  in  1798,  of  the  yel 
low  fever,  then  prevailing  in  Philadelphia.  Three  sons 
and  three  daughters  survived  her. 


END    OF    VOL.    I. 


14  DAY  USE 

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